


How Soon Is Now

by NowSeeHere



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bisexual Trixie Franklin, Broken Families, Child Death, Childhood Memories, Comedy, Eventual Smut, F/F, Feels, Lesbian, Pupcake - Freeform, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, Slow Burn, Super queer original characters, Useless Lesbians, every chapter is a Smiths song, queer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:20:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 141,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22383979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NowSeeHere/pseuds/NowSeeHere
Summary: Modern A/U.This is a story about overcoming obstacles, growth, forgiveness, and, you know, giving in to the inevitable...
Relationships: Delia Busby & Patsy Mount, Delia Busby/Patsy Mount, Lucille Anderson & Valerie Dyer, Lucille Anderson/Valerie Dyer
Comments: 272
Kudos: 363





	1. Heaven knows I'm Miserable Now

**Author's Note:**

> I am human and I need to be loved  
> Just like everybody else does

Delia swung open the door to the bustling pub, the chatter and clamouring of the other guests was enthusiastic and gave an upbeat atmosphere even though the lighting inside was low and romantic. 

She approached an attractive woman at the bar with cropped hair, wearing a flowery sleeveless blouse that not only accentuated her gorgeous arms, but signaled the start of spring. To Delia, she was breathtaking, and she hoped she didn’t look too disheveled after rushing to get there that evening.

‘Priyanka, hi,’ Delia breathed, sighing with a hint of relief in her voice as the woman smiled at the sight of her, ‘it's lovely to see you again. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.’ 

Priyanka pulled Delia forward and placed a friendly kiss on either cheek. 'Not at all, darling. I've just sat down and ordered us a drink.'

'Thank you,' Delia breathed, removing her jacket before sitting at the bar next to her. 

Delia was a bundle of nerves at the prospect of being on a first date with Priyanka. The two had first met at a gallery opening through friends, where the two discussed art and history and seemed to hit it off and exchanged numbers by the end of the evening. The next several weeks they chatted through texts and the occasional phone call, but due to busy schedules, only now did they have the time to meet up for an official date. 

Despite having grown comfortable through conversation with Priyanka, Delia felt out of her depth dating someone who seemed so distinguished and beautiful. She wondered what attracted Priyanka to her at all, though she worked hard to push aside any disparaging thoughts about herself. 

Since moving to London, Delia had not had much luck with dating; none of the women she had met via apps or in the pubs ever lasted long. All of them claimed, for one reason or another, they weren’t looking for something long term, or just there to have a bit of fun. For the most part, Delia had no issue with this, as for the better part of her 20s she had spent a considerable amount of time training to become a doctor, her nose to the books while the rest of her mind and body were occupied with attending classes learning to care for patients through her residency. It was only in the last few years that she set out on her own, first as a fresh new doctor working at the Royal London Hospital, only recently moving onto a smaller public clinic that specialized in maternity care, childbirth, and pediatrics. All the fields that made her decide to become a doctor.

Unfortunately, with it being a smaller clinic running on a skeleton crew, it was hard for Delia to get away from her work. Always one to want to help, sometimes finding herself working 7 days a week without a break. It was exhausting , for sure, but it had to be done as she was the only doctor currently at the clinic. 

Regardless, Delia was about to hit her 30th year on this planet, and wanted someone to share her life with. The nagging feeling of loneliness and desire to have someone to come home to had gone denied for much too long, and she was finally ready to do something about it. 

She had no interest in ending up an old cat lady, so here she was. 

Delia took a sip of the chardonnay that Priyanka so graciously ordered for her and felt herself relax a little, though still intimidated by the stunning beauty that sat beside her. She wasn’t going to get her hopes up, but she was curious where things might lead with Priyanka. Delia was just happy that someone as pretty as Priyanka was there for her to admire, really. 

‘So, how was your day then? Get much writing done?’ Delia asked, referring to Priyanka's current project. 

‘Oh, goodness, no,' Priyanka threw her head back with an air of annoyance. 'My mother popped round first thing and insisted I come shopping with her for a new phone for Anuva.’ 

Delia looked at her with a raised eyebrow. 

‘My sister,’ Priyanka elaborated, ‘turns out the silly girl shattered her phone screen and couldn’t scroll through facebook without risk of cutting her thumb,’ she sighed with a roll of her eyes. 

'Oh no, that's worse than dropping it in the toilet,' Delia replied sympathetically. 

‘Isn’t it just? The silly girl seems incapable of looking after the rotten things. I don’t think a year goes by without my parents having to buy her a new one!’ 

‘Oh?’ Delia asked, swirling her wine, ‘They just keep… buying her a new one after she’s broken the one she has?’ 

Priyanka nodded with a shrug. 

‘And she's… how old?’ Delia asked conversationally, wanting to give the girl the benefit of the doubt if she were just a teenager. 

‘She’s 25,’ Priyanka quipped, taking a sip of her wine. 

‘Ah,’ Delia said in a tone that relayed that that explained it all, but she was doing her best to not pass judgement, ‘you know, my parents bought me my first phone. It was one of those brick-like Nokia phones. I know they’re ancient now, but they were pretty solid phones. Impossible to break.’ 

Delia offered this little tidbit lightheartedly, but Priyanka seemed to give an uninterested yet polite smile. 

‘Maybe she ought to be downgraded to one of those. You know, less likely to break and all that. Save your parents some money.’ 

'Well, anyway,’ Priyanka began, seeming eager to move on, ‘I didn't mind too much, I got loads of work done last week. I have a few more days before my publisher wants to see some progress. I have the last of the chapters to review with my editor, but I think I'll be able to get this little project done on schedule.'

'Well!’ Delia exclaimed, happy for the change in subject, ‘Fabulous news, congrats!' 

The two clinked glasses in a toast and took a sip, both smiling shyly at one another. 

Delia felt her cheeks flush pink as she racked her brain for some other topic to discuss, but she was rendered speechless by Priyanka's beauty. 

‘So, as a treat to myself for finishing my book on time, I’ll be summering in Malta,’ Priyanka continued, looking excited at the prospect. She smiled and fluffed her skirt around her knees as Delia tried not to choke on her wine. 

‘Summering?’ she quipped, blinking, ‘As in, holidaying for an entire season?’ 

‘Yes, of course, what did you think?’ 

‘Oh, I,’ Delia coughed awkwardly, trying not to stammer. She suddenly felt way below Priyanka’s station, ‘nothing, it just must be nice to… you know, go on holiday… for a few months.’ 

‘Oh, it is! After all the hard work I’ve put into this book I just need to relax my mind and body for a bit, recharge my batteries.’

As someone who was responsible for not only bringing life into the world, but sometimes working tirelessly to keep it here, and with _many_ long shifts on her feet at the hospital under her belt, Delia could only nod and fantasize what a life like that would be like. What it must be like to not only have the time, but the resources to just pick up and go like that to have a rest. 

‘Must have taken a long time to save up to go on holiday for… an entire summer,’ Delia replied, smiling politely. 

‘Oh,’ Priyanka waved her hand blithely, ‘for things like these I just dip into my trust every now and again. Everyone does it, don’t you?’

Delia blinked. Trust? What was that? 

The moment was broken by a little high pitched tune that emanated from Delia's jacket and made her jump. She recognized it at once as her work phone.

‘Ah, sorry, I just need to…,' Delia trailed off and she hurried to dig her phone out of her pocket. 

Priyanka's smile faded at once, turning to a grimace as she set her drink down on the bar. 'Are you seriously taking a call right now?' she asked, crossing her arms. 

'I'm sorry, it's from the hospital,' Delia pleaded. ‘They wouldn't call me unless it was absolutely necessary.'

'It’s Sunday evening,' Priyanka said incredulously. 

Priyanka's consternation had Delia fumbling with her phone, her body suddenly spiking with a nervous anxiety. Answering the phone was clearly about to ruin the date, but she knew if they were calling her now there was an issue. 

‘Hello?' she finally answered. 'Yes, this is she…' 

Delia gave an apologetic look and rose from her seat, walking to an unoccupied corner of the pub to chat with the nurse on the other end of the line. 

‘Are you absolutely sure there isn't anyone else…? Who is the medical provider on call this evening? … Out sick? Who is covering - you know what, never mind. She’s my patient, I’ll just come in….’ 

With a sigh, Delia gathered a few more details before she ended the call, and walked back to the bar, dreading cutting the date short. 

‘Priyanka, I’m so sorry, but I need to leave,' Delia started, gathering her jacket. 'There’s been a bit of a mixup with the schedule at the hospital so they're understaffed, and I need to go in and take care of a patient.’ 

Priyanka remained ominously silent, her mouth a thin line as she sipped more of her chardonnay. 

'I'd really like to see you again,' Delia posed earnestly, quietly hopeful. 'Perhaps we could take a raincheck?' 

‘Don’t bother,' came Priyanka's terse reply. 

Delia blinked, her heart plummeting into her stomach. 

‘Don’t… but, I mean,’ Delia gulped, watching any chance of being with this woman crash and burn. ‘I really am sorry, Priyanka, but I think if I had another chance-’

‘I’m not interested in dating someone who is just going to get up and leave at a moment's notice,’ Priyanka replied sternly. 

‘Well I… I mean… babies have their own schedule,’ Delia pleaded. ‘And I couldn't have possibly known the doctor on shift tonight would-’

'Delia, I want to be with someone who can sit down for at least one bloody drink with me. Trust me Delia, _both_ my parents are doctors, I’ve lived this life and I don’t want this kind of neglect in my relationships.’ 

‘Neglect?!’ Delia sputtered, exasperated. 'Just because… I wouldn't be…’

Delia trailed off, feeling angry at how this was all turning out, at her work yet again interrupting her personal life and how Priyanka was refusing to give her a chance. She defaulted to shutting her mouth, not wanting to say anything she might later regret. 

She stood there with her phone in one hand and jacket in the other, needing to leave but not wanting to leave things with Priyanka unsalvageable. 

‘Fine,’ Delia said, working to calm herself down. ‘I don't know what to say other than I'm sorry. It was nice to get to know you, anyway.' 

Without another word shared between them, Delia threw down a few quid for her glass of wine, and turned on her heel, heading out into the evening and hailing a cab. 

It was rather tragic, Delia thought as she flagged down a black car, that this date was the one thing she’d been looking forward to all week. 

She loved her job, but she _really_ hated it right now. 

Delia decided she was going to have a chat with Julienne in the morning to see if they could get funding to hire another doctor. If Delia was going to have any kind of personal life, she was going to need help. 

* * *

That same evening, on the other side of the Atlantic, Patsy taped shut the cardboard box containing the last of her things. With a grunt, she heaved the box on top of the rest that were stacked near the entryway to her apartment. She was amazed at how much stuff she had accumulated over the years, mostly books, and had been frustrated enough during the packing process that she had half a mind to haul it out onto the street for people to take as they pleased. 

She took a moment to look around at the place she had called home for the last eight years. 

Blimey, where had the time gone? 

After a rather challenging uni experience at Oxford, mostly because she was still under her father’s thumb, she had no idea what she wanted to do with her life, so she applied to schools all over the US, having no desire to stay in England, and somehow had not only gotten into Harvard, but managed to win the proverbial lottery and made her way to the States on a genius visa. Biology was her chosen major, earning a masters degree after three years. 

Her friends at school encouraged her to study for and take the MCAT, and the summer after she graduated she sat for the test and did well enough to get into whatever medical school she wanted. 

By this time Patsy was 24 years of age. She liked living in the States, liked living in Boston, but she was ready for a change. 

She applied to and enrolled in the MD program at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore, where she studied and worked and lived, earning her medical degree at age 28 and performing a year of residency at the University of Maryland Medical Center. It was the only time in her medical career she would have face-to-face interaction with patients, since after her residency, she was faced with the prospect of being sent back to England due to an expired visa, an event she’d prefer to avoid

So, knowing nothing but _how_ to study, Patsy enrolled in the PhD program at Hopkins and was a shoo-in as an alumni, and her visa extended as a result. She spent the next three years focusing on applied health sciences, which consisted of constant research and the application of her skills in assisting professors with publishing medical journals and even aiding in directing classes and grading assignments for undergraduate students. 

Now at age 33 with yet another degree under her belt, she was met yet again with the empty void that was her future, only knowing what needed to be done in the here and now.

And that was to clean this apartment and get her bum on a plane back to London that evening. 

She walked over to another box she hadn't sealed yet, the one with all the cleaning products. She got to work sanitizing the bathroom and kitchen and was just about to work on the bedroom when a knock at the door interrupted her cleaning. 

'Patsy Mount?' the young man at the door asked, holding a clipboard and scratching his head with a pencil. There was a gaggle of other lads behind him waiting in the hallway, all wearing matching t-shirts saying _College Hunks Hauling Junk_. 

'That’s me,' Patsy said, opening the door for the boys to come in. 'I appreciate you coming on a Sunday evening.'

'No problem at all ma'am. Just need you to sign here please and we'll get your things on the truck.' 

Patsy grasped the clipboard and signed on the X as the boys filed into her place and began grabbing things. 

'This all going overseas?' the man asked casually. 

'That's right. Back with me to the UK.'

'Ah, thought I heard a bit of an accent. You been in Baltimore long?' 

'Nearly 10 years I reckon. Sad to leave, really, but you know, plans change.'

'I hear ya. Well, we'll make sure this is all wrapped up and on the container in the morning. It won't be quick though, usually takes about two weeks from door to door for shipments going via container ship.'

'That's fine. I can live without furniture for a fortnight.'

She hopped out of the way as the men hauled a sofa past her grunting and carried it down the hallway. 

One of the boys walked by with a box that had a rucksack on top of it. 

'Ah! I'll take that one!' she insisted, scooping the box out of his arms and to a safe spot away from the rest of her things. 

The rucksack was what she wanted to take with her on the plane, things she knew she would need like her chargers, her music, her laptop, and a few books. 

The box, however, was something she hoped to pass off to someone else before she left that evening. 

Soon, Patsy was left standing in an empty apartment all by herself with the few possessions she was to carry with her back to London. 

Patsy checked the time on her phone and saw that she needed to get a move on. 

She looked over at the remaining box that was left on the kitchen counter. It needed to go. 

With a sigh, she unlocked her phone and sent a text. 

**_I need to leave for my flight soon._ **

A moment later, her phone chimed.

**_I'm on my way._ **

Patsy grabbed a faded grey jumper with the word _Hopkins_ on the front and pulled it on, slipping on her white trainers. 

With one last look around, she grabbed her rucksack and tucked the box under her arm, her other hand grasping onto a rolling suitcase with some clothing to get her through the next few weeks. 

She didn't know what she was going to do when she got back to London. 

Go home, she reckoned. She was oddly comforted by the fact that there would be no one there to meet her. 

Patsy got on her phone and hailed a Lyft once she reached the curb outside her apartment building, looking left and right for any sign of someone approaching. The streets were quiet on this Sunday evening, as they usually were. 

A car pulled up in front of her within minutes, and she had half a mind to just set the box on the stoop and leave when she heard a familiar voice call her name. 

'Patsy!' 

She gave half a smile at the sight of the woman skidding her bicycle to a halt as she approached. 

'Moonyung,' Patsy replied. 

'Hey,' the woman said shyly, dismounting from her bike. 'I'm glad I didn't miss you.'

Patsy nodded and looked down at her shoes, unable to look Moonyung in the eye. Even after all their history together, Patsy still thought she was the most beautiful woman she had ever laid eyes on. It almost made Patsy forget how terribly she’d been treated by the woman for several years. 

'I didn't want to leave without handing this off to you. Just the last of the things you might have missed when you moved out.' 

Patsy held out the box of trinkets just as the driver of the car rolled down the window. 

'Is one of you Patsy?' 

'Yeah, that's me. Just a second,' she said. 

Moonyung took the box and looked through it, examining the contents with a sad smile. 

'Thank you.'

Patsy merely nodded and walked towards the car. 

The driver popped the trunk and Patsy threw her luggage in. As she moved to get in the back of the car, Moon Young called out to her. 

'Patsy…'

Patsy stopped and looked over to her. 

'Are you sure you don't want this?' 

Moonyung held out a slip of paper the size of a bookmark. It was pictures they had taken in a photo booth during a trip to the beach one summer when their relationship was new. They looked happy in the photos, and Patsy couldn't deny it brought back fond memories of when things were better between them. 

Despite this, Patsy furrowed her brows and wanted to tell Moonyung that she was certain she didn’t want any evidence of them having been together at any point in their life, but the hopeful look on the woman’s face made Patsy hold her tongue. 

'Here,' Moonyung said, tearing one photo off and handing it to Patsy. 'Just… so you remember the good times.'

Patsy silently took the photo and stuck it in her pocket. 

'I have to go.'

'I know,’ Moonyung replied softly. ‘You know, they talked about your father on The Nightly. The episode just came out last night. I'm really sorry… I had no idea.’ 

Patsy hesitated to respond, the details of her father's life and death rather a mystery even to her. She was afraid to find out what the podcast entailed. 

'I just… hope everything works out for you once things settle. Good luck to you Patsy.'

'Thanks,’ came her terse reply. 

Patsy got in the back of the car and gave a sigh of relief. 

'BWI, please.' 

'Which terminal?' 

'International. British Airways.' 

'Should've guessed,’ the driver quipped as they started off. 

Patsy tapped her fingers anxiously against her knee as they headed out of the city and towards the airport. She reached for her phone and put her headphones into her ear, scrolling through her podcasts until she found the latest episode of The Nightly.

Her thumb hovered over the play button for a moment before she finally pressed it. 

‘From The Washington Times, I’m Michael Nataro; this is The Nightly,’ came the reporter as the intro music played. ‘Tonight: He was a philanthropist billionaire who recently tumbled to his death amidst mounting debt that crumbled his business, wiped out his fortune, and left his family name in ruins. Once having a monopoly on shipping enterprises across southeast Asia and the United Kingdom, Charles Mount spent the last year of his life facing criminal charges for grossly misappropriating the funds of employee pensions, leaving nearly all who worked for ‘Para-Mount’ shipping enterprises to retire with nothing-’

Patsy hit the pause button on the podcast, unable to listen to any more. 

She resolved to try to get some sleep on the plane. She had a meeting with some solicitors in the morning.


	2. Back to the Old House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patsy returns to London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would rather not go  
> Back to the old house  
> There's too many bad memories  
> Too many memories there

It was midday when Patsy finally left the office of her father's lawyers. Nothing like sitting in a stuffy antiquated room with a bunch of old men staring down their enlarged wrinkled noses at her to make a girl feel welcomed back in her home country. It probably didn’t help that she looked disheveled and unkempt from barely sleeping on the flight over, looking  like a homeless person  showing up with her bags and suitcase directly from the airport. 

She stood just outside the heavy wooden door of the elegant  red brick building in the heart of the Temple district  noting the people bustling by along the cobblestoned streets , and took a deep breath. To her left, she watched a man approach who was lighting a fresh cigarette, and above all else that was the one thing Patsy was craving at the moment. 

‘Scuse me, could I trouble you for one of those?’ she asked. 

‘Fuck off,’ was the dismissive reply as they kept briskly walking past. 

Ah, yes, it was good to be back in London. 

Patsy looked at the engorged manilla envelope in her hand and opened it, taking out a set of house keys. 

Well, she may  _ look  _ homeless, but as of 10 minutes ago, she now had a home.

It seemed that in a desperate attempt to pay off his loans before his death, Patsy’s father sold off and cleared out every asset and savings account he could: stocks, homes, boats, probably the Gucci suits off his back, all of which came as no shock to Patsy.

The keys to this house were the exception to it all. The one thing he couldn’t sell off, simply because the house had been passed down to them as a gift from her mother's side, and the deed was in her mother's name. Seemed that the woman had the smarts to bequeath it to Patsy in her own last will and testament before she…

Patsy shook her head, breaking herself of that train of thought before she could go too far. 

She stuck the keys in her jeans pocket, her hand aching from having to sign her life away with all the legal paperwork. Since she was listed as next of kin and power of attorney, she was responsible for signing in her father’s place, all paperwork to absolve him of his debts, to liquidate his business and file the entire company into bankruptcy. 

The irony was not beyond her that, due to her father's own greed and ineptitude, his shipping business had, well, sunk. 

What bothered her about it all was  _ how  _ he died. For someone who owed so much money, surely people were after him?

‘Cardiac arrest,’ one of the lawyers had said, throwing a packet of papers across his desk in Patsy’s direction, ‘fell off his boat and drowned while fishing. It’s there in the report.’ 

Patsy didn’t move. 

‘Yes, because a rigorous activity such as  _ fishing  _ can really put a strain on a man's heart,’ she said flatly. 

‘He was  _ alone _ , Ms. Mount,’ another man chimed in, ‘no alcohol or drugs in his system, I might add. No foul play. He was not known for his healthy lifestyle, as I’m sure you were aware.’ 

Patsy sighed. That argument was hard to debate. If Patsy knew anything about her father it was that the man liked his red meat and had smoked a pack a day since he was 12. In the more recent photos she had seen of him in the  tabloids , he looked red and bloated, not at all the trim youthful  figure she remembered him to be. 

With a sigh of defeat, Patsy had grabbed the packet off the desk and tucked it away with the mountain of other papers they were going to send home with her. 

The only thing Patsy’s father did leave behind that the debtors couldn’t collect on was a hefty life insurance policy that made Patsy do a triple take when she saw the numbers on paper. It was such a large amount that she decided to pretend it wasn’t real and wouldn’t touch any of it unless it was absolutely necessary. 

She walked to a nearby  fast food outlet  and grabbed some takeaway, then hailed a cab to take her to an address she knew by heart. 

During the ride, Patsy wondered about the house. What was the state of it? When was the last time someone had been there? Did anyone look after it at all?

Her questions were answered when she pulled up to the brick  house  on the quiet street she had grown up on.  The house looked the same as it had when she was a child,  and she assumed for the last hundred years or so that it had existed. The  only difference being that the front of the house was now covered in overgrown shrubs and ivy , the gate to the front garden nearly rusted shut and she had  almost kicked the thing out of the garden wall trying to open it. As she approached the front door she could see spiderwebs full of insects around the window sills and trim. 

Patsy hadn’t even opened the front door yet and she could already see she would have her work cut out for her.

She took a deep breath before inserting the key into the lock, and even then it took a bit of muscle to shove the door open as years worth of forgotten  mail, pamphlets and pizza menus were stacked just on the other side. 

When she  finally gained entry , Patsy took a moment to look around. 

She took a few steps forward, the old wooden floors creaked loudly under her  trainers and echoed throughout the room. It was quiet, and cold, and very apparent that this house had not seen life or the light of day for several years. 

She flicked the switch on the wall and nothing happened. Patsy wondered if any power  was still connected to the house

She left her luggage and food sitting there in the foyer as she pulled out her phone and turned on the light. The  fuse box was in the kitchen, if she recalled, so she walked through the lounge and dining room to find  the cupboard it was hidden in . She opened the door to the cupboard slowly in the event that any creatures were hiding in there, but she was thankful to find the thing nearly  empty , it’s only occupants some harmless spiders and a forgotten broom and bucket. With the help of the light from her phone, she flipped on all the switches and thought she could hear the house hum to life. 

Her eyes landed on a pipe with a red knob attached. She needed to use two hands to turn the thing, but once she got it loose, and could hear the pipes in the walls groan and rattle.

Patsy hoped that she had just turned the water on, and she opened the taps in the sink to test her theory. From the sink came a rattle and then a sputtering of brown water, discoloured from sitting in the pipes for so long. She let the water run until it was clear, and decided to make her way through the rest of the house to turn on the taps. 

She tested the lights in the kitchen first, and anything else that used power. She flipped on the  socket for the fridge and it beamed to life, the only thing inside was an old box of  bicarbonate of soda  left open. Beside the sink was a little  dishwasher, washing machine and tumble dryer that she hoped still worked, so she decided to test them and let them run an empty cycle. 

There were three bedrooms and four bathrooms, if Patsy remembered correctly. Each bedroom had its own  bathroom attached, two on the top floor and one on the first. Here on the ground floor was just a toilet  her parents had added under the stairs when she was young. 

Patsy peered inside the small room and blanched at the disgusting state of the toilet, wondering if she ought to get a hazmat suit before she attempted to clean anything out. She turned on the taps to the sink and used her foot to flush the toilet, not wanting to go near the thing with her hands unless she had heavy duty rubber gloves. 

As Patsy made her way through the house, she opened all the  curtains and windows to let the light and fresh air in. She made her way up the stairs to find her parents old room in a similarly dreary state, empty and cold. She opened the windows, tested the lights and taps in the bathroom to make sure everything worked. The other room on the first floor was the one her father used as a home office, the one Patsy was never allowed to enter, but today she did, just to look around. It was a relatively decent sized room with a  wardrobe and built in bookshelves on either side, the large window on the other side giving a nice view of the garden in the back. 

Patsy decided this would be her office now. She was actually excited at the prospect of organizing her books and journals on these shelves once they arrived. 

As Patsy moved to climb the stairs to the second floor, she stopped. Frozen in place with her hand on the  banister and her foot on  the first step, her eyes locked at the top of the stairs, a blank wall looking back at her. 

She stood still and looked at that wall for a long time, trying to convince herself that she really did see nothing. 

‘There’s nothing there,’ she said out loud, ‘shadows. Just shadows.’ 

With a deep breath, she slowly climbed the stairs until she reached the top floor,  where she and her sister used to sleep.

Patsy had not been inside this  house since she was a teenager. Despite more than a decade away, it felt as if no time had passed at all. 

She chanced a look to her left and saw what she expected to see; the door to her sisters room, nearly untouched  since  the last time she had been home. Wooden letters her sister had painted herself in  play school  were still hanging on the door spelling EMMA. It was accompanied by more drawings  in  crayons and  felt tips . Patsy walked over and gently took one, wondering why they were left when the house was cleared out, but rather thankful they had been left behind, even if they were faded and nearly crumbling with age. 

One of the drawings taped to the door was of what looked like a dog, the lines of the drawing harsh and thick, but there was no mistaking two eyes and a tongue. Patsy remembered fondly the elderly couple across the street having a little white dog named Rin Tin Tin that her sister adored. Their own parents didn’t want animals in the house, but they were more than happy to let Emma play with the neighbor’s dog to get her fix. Patsy remembered  taking the pup for walks around the neighbourhood with Emma and the neighbours would pay them for their services with  sweets  and chocolate. 

Another drawing showed four stick figures in marker, all with happy faces. Patsy remembered this one, seeing it in the hospital after her sister had drawn it. Even back then, the sight of it broke her heart, as her sister had drawn everyone but herself with a full head of hair. 

Patsy shook her head and blinked back a tear, placing the drawings back on the door before she carried on with her task. 

There were no sympathetic thoughts when Patsy finally reached her old bedroom. There was no evidence that there was ever a child here, which she was sure her father had done intentionally when he cleared the place out. The only exception being a small stuffed Pooh Bear with a missing eye what was wedged in the back of Patsy’s old  wardrobe . 

She grabbed the  toy and took it back downstairs with her to the kitchen, thinking she would give it a good scrub once she picked up some cleaning supplies. 

Patsy found her takeaway and brought it to the kitchen, standing over the sink and eating away, her mind wondering what her next steps needed to be. 

Sure, take a trip to Tesco, clean the house. Maybe call Sky and turn on the wifi, but then what? 

Look for a job?  _ How  _ does one even  _ do  _ that? 

Patsy paced the kitchen as she ate, thinking. She stopped at the back door that led to the garden, using her sleeve to wipe off the scum from the window so she could look outside. She was not at all surprised to see  an incredibly  overgrown garden that had been left to its own devices for much too long. 

She took one last bite of her food before she unlocked the door and stepped out, walking slowly down the concrete path that cut through the middle of the garden that she remembered she and her sister playing hopscotch on when they were younger. 

‘Stop,’ Patsy said to herself firmly, once again ridding herself of thoughts she did not want to think at the moment. 

Patsy took a few more steps, batting overgrown shrubs out of her way and  kicking aside old broken flower pots from her path.

She was taking a mental inventory of what she would need to do out here when a noise from next door caught her attention. It sounded as if someone were groaning in pain. 

Patsy approached the brick wall that separated her property from her neighbors, and peered over, seeing an elderly woman on her hands and knees looking  clearly  anguished. 

‘Oh my,’ Patsy commented, rushing to the alleyway to enter the woman's garden. She wanted to see if she was alright, but the back gate was locked. 

Patsy went back into her  garden and found a large pot that  was fortunately intact,  so she turned it upside down and stood on it to peer over the brick and mortar partition. 

‘ Excuse me , are you alright?’ she called. 

‘It seems that I have  overexerted  myself in my haste,’ the woman said, looking as if she were unable to move or turn her head to even look at Patsy. 

‘Have you fallen? Pulled a muscle?’ Patsy asked, her eyes skimming the woman’s garden to ensure she hadn’t accidentally impaled herself with  a gardening tool. 

‘Muscle, joints,’ she sighed. ‘What haven’t I pulled, except for the weeds from this tomato patch. Am I to be punished so for trying to correct what one has forsaken?’ 

Patsy looked on, confused at the woman’s rambling, but decided to just hop over to the other side. 

Once she was down on the ground again, she rushed over to the elderly woman and kneeled beside her. 

‘Where do you hurt? Your back? Your knees? Are you able to stand?’ Patsy prattled off, her medical training coming back to her. She skimmed her figure and the surrounding area for any sign of further injury. 

Patsy extended her hand and the woman took it. 

‘Who are you?’ the woman asked, ‘an angel who has fallen out of the sky?’ 

Patsy gave a bit of a laugh. ‘No, I’m actually a doctor, and I suppose, your neighbour.’ 

‘You suppose,’ the woman said. ‘You either are or aren’t, which is it?’ 

Patsy cleared her throat awkwardly. ‘I am. Now, can you try and stand for me? I just want to help you back to your feet and into the house.’

‘I shall do my best,’ the woman replied. 

Patsy grasped onto her, taking one hand and using the other to hold her steady around her waist as she guided her to a standing position. After a moment, the two were on their feet, the woman  expelled a sigh as if standing up straight had been akin to climbing a flight of stairs. Her hands were cramped and her body shaking, and Patsy wondered briefly if the woman suffered from Parkinson's. 

‘That is not the first time my body has failed me. Seems my old bones are telling me I am no longer meant to partake in recreational activities such as gardening. Feh,’ she huffed with a wave of her hand. 

Patsy glanced down curiously to the patch of dirt that looked as if she were trying to  _ replant  _ dandelions and white clovers back onto the tomato patch. She decided not to comment on it. 

‘Um, so you’re alright then?’ Patsy asked tentatively. 

'I believe I can manage from here. Come,' she said. 

Patsy watched rather stunned as the woman disentangled herself from her grasp and hobbled away towards the back door to her home. 

‘Come in, come in, come in,’ the woman waved frantically. ‘Can’t send you off without a bit of cake, can I?’ 

‘Oh, that’s  really not nec…’ 

Patsy faltered, coughing awkwardly again as she realized she was suddenly left alone in her neighbor's garden. 

‘Oh, why the bloody hell not,’ she mumbled to herself. 

She slowly walked up the path and into the house, looking around and taking in the smell of spices and tea. 

Unlike her house, this place looked lived in and cared for. The walls of the dining room were adorned with black and white photographs of friends and family, chests of china behind glass doors, a table with several chairs that looked to be mixed and matched and very much like they had been collected over the years. 

The elderly woman puttered in the kitchen, humming to herself as she appeared before Patsy with a tray of tea, teacups, and a bit of cake. 

The china rattled on the tray from the woman shaking as she carried it, and Patsy rushed over. 

‘I’ll take that!’ she insisted, grasping onto the tray before it  made an untimely fall  to the floor. 

‘Oh, so you  _ are  _ an angel,’ she winked. 

Patsy cracked a hesitant smile as she brought the tray to the table, still feeling rather awkward that she was in a stranger's house. 

‘May I pour you some tea?’ Patsy offered, taking the liberty to set out the two cups and poured the hot water from the  teapot . 

Once everything  was set, Patsy turned to find the woman staring back at her,  a worried expression on her face.

‘Is everything alright?’ she asked, halting in her motions. 

The woman was suddenly standing very close to Patsy, and Patsy gulped as the woman looked her right in the eye and seemed to peer  directly  into Patsy’s soul. 

‘My eyes may not be what they once were, but I can see when someone is troubled.’ 

Patsy watched as she scurried off  through a door that Patsy hadn't noticed when she walked in. 

The woman disappeared through a curtain of beads, the strands swaying and clinking musically against one another as they settled. 

Patsy looked at the beads curiously, though feeling profoundly awkward and confused having been left alone in the dining room. 

Slowly, Patsy approached the curtain and pushed the beads aside, taking a moment to really look around the room. 

There was the faint scent of incense, and Patsy caught sight of small buddist sculptures sitting on shelves as bookends,  the books between them all apparently relating to astrology and meditation. Decorative scarves with hindu writing hung from the walls along with Native American dreamcatchers and wooden wind chimes, which for some reason bothered Patsy most of all. What she found even more peculiar was the other woman in the room, leaning back in a recliner fast asleep, snoring lightly. Patsy wondered if it was the rerun of the Antiques Roadshow she had on the  tiny telly across from her , or the two fingers of brandy that sat beside her on the end table that had the woman snoring as if she were sawing logs. 

The squeak of a drawer being shut caught her attention, and Patsy turned back towards the woman.

‘You helped me, so I shall offer my services to help you,’ she said, pulling out a chair for Patsy next to a little end table before she settled into her own seat. 

‘I don’t think I need any, um…’ Patsy trailed off, watching as the woman shuffled a large deck of cards. 

‘Sit, child,’ she implored with a wave of her hand. ‘Come, come.’ 

Patsy sighed with a hint of defeat and not wanting to be rude, took a seat  at the table.

Her attention was brought back to the  woman as she had somehow produced golden Tibetan singing bowls, setting them on the table and clinking them with a small wooden mallet. A calming tone emanated throughout the room, and Patsy watched as this peculiar woman closed her eyes and took a deep breath, humming along with the tune. 

After several moments,the tune died down to silence, and the woman opened her eyes and smiled. 

‘There, now the room is purified.’ 

‘Indeed.’ Patsy wondered if she ought to run now, or stay and see where this afternoon would take her. The woman seemed completely harmless, so she decided to stay and take her chances. 

When Patsy looked down at the table, she saw the large deck of cards placed in front of her. 

‘Go on and shuffle the deck for me, please,’ the woman requested. 

Patsy blinked and looked at the intricate design on the back of the top card. It occurred to her that these were tarot cards. 

‘Oh, what the hell,’ she mumbled to herself as she grasped the cards. 

She gave them a good shuffle before setting them back down on the table, pushing the stack towards the woman. 

‘Remind me of your name, child,’ the woman said. 

It was then that Patsy realized that she had never given her name. Nor did she know the name of this woman. 

‘Um, Patience, or, Patsy, rather,’ she shrugged. 

‘And your sign?’ 

‘Oh… um, come to think I don’t know. My birthday was in February-,’

‘Aquarius!’ she exclaimed, startling Patsy into silence. 

The woman placed her hands over the cards and closed her eyes,  seemingly in p rayer. 

‘I, Monica Joan, want to thank you for clarity and accuracy, to help me see, help me speak, help me tell Patience what she needs to hear from this reading, these cards painting a picture for this Aquarius here with me to see this day.’ 

Patsy didn’t know whether to be amused or scared, but she watched with fascination as the woman cut the deck of cards into three. 

She pulled out the first card from the pile and laid it out on the table for Patsy to see. It was a heart with three swords impaled through it. 

‘Three of swords,’ she said, tutting, ‘sure sign of a broken heart.’ 

‘Hmm,’ Patsy hummed, her mouth tight. Surely just a coincidence. 

‘It is unfortunate, but it seems you have been with this energy for a while. It’s time for you to come out of it, my dear child. Time for a little spiritual surgery.’ 

Patsy leaned back in her chair as she watched Monica Joan hold the card firmly in her hand and above her head. 

‘OUT!’ she shouted as she firmly shook the card, causing Patsy to nearly tumble out of her chair. ‘Out! Out! Out!’

‘Will you shut UP, you old bat!’ 

Patsy turned to see the woman across the room turning in  the recliner to sleep on her side, obviously upset that her slumber had been disturbed. The recliner creaked and groaned under her weight as she pulled a throw blanket off the sofa and covered herself with it. 

‘Ignore her,' Monica Joan quipped sourly, 'Do not let her petulance disturb our healing aura.’ 

Monica Joan threw the card down on the table like it had done something naughty. 

‘Get OUT of Patsy's heart! Out!’ she exclaimed once more, pointing in no direction in particular. 

Patsy did not know whether to laugh or cry, or possibly try to make a run for it. 

‘Hmm,’ the woman sighed contently. ‘That ought to do it.’ 

Patsy silently nodded and decided to stay and see this play out. Who needed  Sky  when she had this woman as a neighbor?

Monica Joan pulled another card and tutted again. 

‘Seven of swords,' she sighed again, throwing the card down to reveal a picture of a man in a jester's outfit looking as if he was running away from a circus tent, carrying over his shoulder several swords. 

‘The sign of someone who can’t make a decision. Doesn’t know who or what they want, a  _ liar _ ,’ she finished with an air of dramatics. 

Patsy hummed thinking, once again, coincidence. It must be, yes? It had to be. None of this was real. 

‘Too much bad energy here,’ Monica Joan continued, pointing to the cards disapprovingly, ‘I tell you right now, someone needs to get  _ sacked _ .' 

She reached for the pile and pulled another. 

‘Oh, six of swords, card of movement, mentally, emotionally, physically, or spiritually...’ 

Patsy grimaced, wondering what the hell was with all the damn swords. 

The card was thrown down to reveal a picture of a cloaked man on a gondola, holding a long stick that disappeared into the water beneath, overlooking the land from his perch. The hull of the boat carried six swords that were sticking straight up to the heavens. 

‘Coming out of the dark night of the soul. The man guiding you from the choppy waters to the smooth waters, with paradise right beyond the shores,’ she said, pointing to the land displayed in the card, ‘the past has definitely been challenging for you but you’ve come out learning many life lessons from your experiences, haven’t you? Seems you're moving past all your hardships and sailing on to better shores,’ Monica Joan quipped, bringing her hands together knowingly. 

_ Better shores _ , Patsy thought to herself, wondering if Monica Joan could possibly be referring to her return to London. She then shook her head and rid herself of such thoughts because this fortune telling business was all nonsense. 

Monica Joan pulled another card and set it down, revealing a woman in a pretty blue dress sitting in front of an idyllic scene with a beautiful landscape and body of water. 

‘Oh yes, water energy, right here,’ Monica Joan nodded, ‘This is love.’ 

‘Love?’ Patsy asked, her voice heavy with skepticism. 

‘This is sappy, sweet love, a new crush, new beginnings, right here, this princess living in her  _ love  _ palace.’ 

Patsy stifled a giggle at that.

‘Might be someone new, someone old, I’m not sure, but _this_ ,’ she said pointing to the card enthusiastically, ‘is the princess of love, of new beginnings.’ 

Patsy hardly thought she was capable of engaging in any kind of romantic love with all she had going on, but she listened on in earnest. 

More shuffling and another card was thrown down, this time of a woman who looked very much like Queen Elizabeth the First, sitting on a throne with a large sword in her right hand. 

‘Queen of swords,’ Monica Joan said solemnly, ‘The cold face of wisdom. She has her sword raised up and that sweet butterfly fluttering around her skirt there,’ she remarked, pointing to a small red butterfly on the women's white skirt. ‘This is someone new here, but with everything else laid out on the table, the heartbreak, the hardships, you would do well to  _ not  _ take past indiscretions out on this person.’ 

Patsy was rather confused, wondering what this all meant. Was she meant to meet someone new? Someone old? Technically Monica Joan fit the bill for new  _ and _ old, but surely she wasn't meant to fall in love with  _ her. _

Was she? 

Patsy shook her head and reminded herself that this was all silly. None of it really meant anything. 

Before another card could be pulled from the deck, the sound of the front door creaking open reached her ears, and Patsy turned to face the bright light of the sun seeping into the lounge. As Patsy’s eyes adjusted, she could make out the figure of a third woman, another woman, though not as old as her fortune teller sitting at the table with her. 

The other woman sitting in the lounge jolted awake at the sound of the door slamming shut, and she quickly wiped the drool off her mouth with the corner of her sleeve. 

‘You’re home early,’ she croaked. 

‘’What are _you_ doing asleep, Evangelina? You’re supposed to be looking after Monica Joan,’ came the third woman. 

‘She’s fine! She’s found a friend,’ Evangelina grunted, giving a stretch before smacking her lips, picking up the glass of brandy next to her and taking a sip. 

Patsy looked from the woman who had just entered to Monica Joan, who looked rather adorable smiling as innocently as possible. Look after her? Was this a hospice house? 

‘Oh,’ the woman said, a little confused as she regarded Patsy. 

‘Sorry to intrude,’ Patsy said, standing from her chair and feeling extremely awkward for being in a stranger's home. ‘Um, Monica Joan invited me in for some tea after I helped her in the garden.’ 

‘She found me in a most vulnerable state,’ Monica quipped, giving her best impersonation of a damsel in distress. 

‘Oh, no, did you fall again?’ the woman asked, looking at her worriedly. 

‘No, I did not,' she sighed, sounding agitated at the thought, 'I merely got down on my knees to right an egregious wrong-’

'Those weeds do  _ not _ belong on my tomato patch!' Evangelina crowd, 'and if you had let it be you wouldn't have been in such a state.'

'Not to worry,’ Monica Joan raised a hand, ignoring the outcry ‘Ms. Mount here is a medical professional.’ 

‘Oh?’ the woman said, looking at Patsy with a lot more interest. 

‘Oh, erm, yes. I’m a doctor,  _ technically _ ,’ she replied, under her breath. 

‘A doctor?’ she asked with a spark of hope behind her eyes. 

Patsy coughed awkwardly, not at all enjoying talking about herself or even used to using her formal title. 

‘Yes, Doctor, erm, Patience. Patience Mount,’ she said as she extended her hand, still not quite comfortable addressing herself with that title. 

‘Julienne,’ the woman said simply, grasping Patsy's hand for a friendly shake.

‘Pleasure.’ 

‘Do you mind if I ask… your background? Professional background, I mean,’ Julienne asked, eyeing Patsy curiously. 

‘Oh-kay,’ Patsy said slowly, finding the request a little odd and out of the blue. 

But then again this entire day had been quite odd for her. 

'My undergraduate and masters was in biology,' she began, 'and I went onto medical school and focused on obstetrics. Did my year of residency…’ Patsy trailed off, her eyes flashing upward in thought, ‘three years ago now, but have spent the last few years working on my doctorate in applied health sciences. Just walked for my PhD, actually,’ Patsy finished, feeling frightfully awkward for having been made to talk about herself. 

Patsy worked hard not to mention any names of schools, though she was painfully aware that she was still wearing a jumper with ‘Hopkins’ written in enormous blue letters. 

‘My…’ Julienne blinked, ‘that’s… quite a bit of education you have there.’ 

‘Yes, well,’ Patsy rocked on her heels. ‘I just kind of started and couldn’t stop,’ she laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck. 

‘Do you mind if I ask where you’re currently employed?’ Julienne asked. 

‘Oh, um, nowhere, at the moment,’ Patsy replied, ‘I’ve just moved next door, as in about an hour ago. Grew up there actually, so we’ll be neighbours, I suppose. There’s a lot to do over there, as you could probably tell, so you might be seeing a lot more of me around the house until I find a proper job.’

Julienne looked perplexed, her mouth opening and closing like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. 

‘I mean,’ Patsy felt panicked, ‘I know the house is a bit of a wreck  _ now _ , but I plan to get to work on it right away…’

Patsy trailed off as she watched Julienne clasp at the small silver cross that hung around her neck and closed her eyes, tilting her head towards the heavens. 

‘Praise be,’ she whispered. 

Patsy furrowed her eyebrows with worry, thinking all the women in this house were rather strange. 

‘I just might have a position for you,' she said, looking at Patsy. 

Patsy blinked. 

‘Beg your pardon?’ 

'I’ve just come from a meeting with the primary doctor I work with at a nearby clinic,’ Julienne began, her voice low and calm as she placed a comforting hand on Patsy’s arm. ‘She's overworked and exhausted and I’ve just put in a request  for funding to take on an additional doctor.’ 

‘Oh?’ Patsy arched an eyebrow. 

‘I was just about to go into my home office and draft up an application to post, but it seems, if you’re willing, I might not have to…’

Patsy blinked again. 

_ ‘Me _ ?’ she asked, not quite believing what she was hearing. ‘You want me to work at this clinic with you?’ 

‘Of course,’ Julienne continued, 'Our clinic is a small one,  NHS funded , set up to help the residents of a nearby borough of Poplar in the east end. We specialize in gynecology, maternity care, and pediatrics predominantly, but will help anyone who walks in. Does that sound like something that would interest you?’ 

Patsy sighed, and it did not go unnoticed that Julienne batted her eyelashes hopefully as she asked the question. 

If Patsy were honest with herself, she  _ was _ interested, thinking that she would love to move on with her career already and put her doctoral degree to use in the real world and not just conducting research in the safety of some classroom. Working with children, too, no less sounded very appealing to her. But she had virtually no experience other than her one year of residency. It didn’t seem right to accept such an offer out of the blue without coming clean about her lack of experience. 

Though this Julienne person  _ did _ seem earnest, and to be honest, looked a little tired herself. Remembering her residency year, she could only imagine the state of the poor lone junior doctor on staff. But she just couldn't accept such an offer when she knew she might not have the experience to be up to the task. 

‘To be quite frank with you, Julienne,' Patsy began hesitantly, 'I have been in school the last few years working in more of an  _ academic  _ setting. The last time I was face to face with a patient was three years ago during my residency.’ 

‘Oh, that’s…’ Julienne hesitated, looking as if she were searching for the right words, ‘I’m sure we can manage, Dr. Mount. The doctor on staff would be happy to take you under her wing. Quite frankly I’m sure she would be elated to see anyone come on to help lighten her load.’

'Yes but I don't think it's right with my lack of experience-,'

_ 'What _ lack of experience?' 

Everyone turned to Evangelina, the woman perched in her chair, holding her glass of brandy and looking decidedly annoyed that this whole conversation was interrupting her show, but determined to chime in anyway. 

'You said so yourself your background was in obstetrics.' 

'Yes but--' Patsy stuttered. 

'Have you given gynecological examinations? Given vaccinations? Diagnosed patients?' Evangelina asked. 

'Well yes, but still,' Patsy was cut off again. 

'Have you ever delivered a baby?' 

'Several times,' Patsy said exasperated. 'But it was during my residency year! I was never alone-'

'Well no one ever delivers babies alone, child!' Evangelina protested, 'you'll always have an experienced team of nurses by your side, and from the way Julienne goes on about her staff some nights, it sounds like they're a cracker of a team.'

Patsy still did not feel confident enough to take on this role. 

'Look, Julienne,' Evangelina started, raising her glass towards the woman. 'You need a doctor to come and work at Nonnatus to pick up the slack, and you, strange woman in my house, you happen to be an unemployed doctor who has the experience Julienne is looking for.' 

She made a wild gesture with her glass that nearly made the brandy inside slosh out over the edge. 

'Figure it out!' 

Patsy looked back to Julienne when Evangelina turned her attention back to the telly. 

'Why don’t you sleep on it,' Julienne began gently. 'And perhaps send me your CV? I can send you more information about the position and the clinic. If I work quickly we can have you come in as soon as Monday morning next week.’ 

Julienne skillfully produced a business card seemingly out of nowhere with all her contact information on it. 

Patsy’s eyes darted to Monica Joan who was looking at her quite gleefully, holding up the card with the six of swords, the one she said showed movement in her life, new beginnings. 

Patsy took Julienne’s business card with a feeble laugh, Julienne’s brilliant smile doing nothing to comfort her one bit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is having Patsy come in and fix up an old house a trope? If not it should be because this is the third fic in which I've used it.  
> I always thought SMJ would be a little woo if she existed in modern times. A little card reading never hurt anyone.  
> We bring the gang all together next week. Maybe we'll see if SMJ's predictions come to fruition. Or not.


	3. Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patsy joins the team at Nonnatus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She sat and stared  
> I'll never make that mistake again

Delia yawned as she stood in the little kitchen of the clinic that Monday morning, stirring sugar into her freshly made tea. She was gearing herself up for another fast paced week and she was willing herself to do more than grunt a salutation as the nurses filed in one by one, performing their own morning rituals as they settled in with their coffees and teas at the little table. 

‘Good weekend, Delia?’ 

Delia turned and nodded to her coworker and friend Barbara, the senior nurse shedding her spring jacket before she sat down. 

‘Just fine, thanks. Though for the life of me I can’t remember what it was I got up to,’ she fibbed as she sipped her tea, blatantly leaving out all the details of her sitting around her flat in her knickers, eating crisps, and watching reruns of old X-Files episodes which she clearly only watched because, well, Gillian Anderson. 

‘Ooh, I like that top on you!’ 

Delia turned to face her blue eyed, blonde haired friend Trixie, another nurse she worked  alongside  at the clinic, looking pointedly at the  brightly  patterned blouse Delia had thrown on that morning. 

‘Maybe I should become a doctor so I wouldn’t have to wear these dreadful things,’ Trixie added, plucking at her dark blue scrubs that matched the pair Barbara was wearing. 

Delia smiled and pulled her white coat aside for Trixie to admire her top. She always liked to wear something with a pop of colour to make herself seem happy and approachable, and it did very much contrast with the boring beige many of the examination rooms were painted. A compliment like that from Trixie, the nurse typically stylish and flamboyant  when not confined to  her scrubs, made Delia feel like she would have a s pring in her step for the rest of the morning. ‘Oh this old thing? An ex let me borrow this ages ago and I never gave it back. Terrible of me I know.’ 

‘Hey, we’re all a little guilty of that,’ Trixie shrugged. ‘Besides, I bet it looks better on you than it ever did on her.’ 

Delia felt rather perked up by the compliment. ‘Well thanks Trix.’ 

‘If you ever feel like letting me borrow it sometime,’ Trixie grinned with a wiggle of her eyebrow. 

‘And never see it again? Not likely,’ she joked. 

The three women turned to look as two more nurses entered the room, Lucille Anderson and Valerie Dyer, the latter of the two looking particularly relaxed and uncharacteristically bronze. 

‘Oh thank god you’re back!’ Barbara exclaimed, clutching her mug of tea excitedly. ‘Been an absolute madhouse here without you two to help.’ 

‘How was your holiday?’ Delia asked conversationally,  fighting off the urge to give a sad sigh  at her flatmate’s return . She had rather enjoyed having the two bedroom flat all to herself for the last week, but all good things come to an end, she reasoned. 

‘It was really great, thank you!’ Lucille gushed as Valerie took a seat at the table. ‘It was wonderful to visit my parents and see all my old friends again, and everyone  _ really  _ loved Valerie.’ 

Lucille smiled down at the woman as Valerie looked back up at her with a silly grin. 

‘Because I’m just so easy to love, darling.’ 

Lucille giggled as both Barbara and Delia shared a look conveying that they might have wanted to gag in disgust.

‘Hey next time we go, when they say they don’t want us to leave, let’s take them up on it, yeah?’ Valerie suggested as she leaned back in her chair. ‘Could get used to living in a place like Jamaica. Crystal blue water, bright sunny skies, fresh fruit everywhere…,’ she trailed off, sighing nostalgically. ‘Youse really have to go sometime, it’s bloody beautiful.’ 

‘Yes, please leave and never come back,’ Delia mumbled into her tea with a roll of her eyes. 

Valerie petulantly stuck her tongue out at her. 

The two women were friends but not the best of flatmates, Delia had realized much too late after signing the lease. It seemed like a good idea at the time; rent was cheap and the commute was convenient for the two of them, but living with Valerie  not her idea of fun  as Valerie  was a less than ideal flatmate. Messy, loud, having mates come over at all hours of the night for god knows what.  She did always pay her share of the rent on time , but if she and Delia hadn't already been close friends,  Delia would have sent her packing ages ago.

‘You say that now, but we didn’t go during hurricane season,’ Lucille mumbled as she sat down next to Valerie, and thanked Trixie as she handed her a cup of tea. 

A few moments of silence passed where Delia looked at the two expectantly and was disappointed when nothing happened. She narrowed her eyes and looked from Valerie to Lucille and back again, huffing with annoyance to see that the two women were  _ not  _ acting out of the ordinary whatsoever. 

Before they had left, Delia pulled Valerie aside to insist that Valerie either shit or get off the pot when it came to telling Lucille  how she really felt about her . Lucille had invited Valerie to come along with her when she visited her parents back home and Delia did her best to convince Valerie that this was an absolute enormous flashing neon sign that she was not only interested but possibly already very much in love with Valerie. Especially considering that Lucille did  _ not _ invite anyone else to come along on the trip!

More importantly, the sooner Valerie and Lucille got together, the sooner Delia had a chance of having the flat all to herself!

Delia sat down in the seat next to Valerie and leaned in close to whisper in her ear as the other women in the room tittered about Jamaica and fancy holidays. 

_ ‘You’re a cowardly shit, you know that?’ _ Delia said quietly through gritted teeth. 

_ ‘What are you talking about?’ _ Valerie asked quietly, looking around nervously making sure that no one could hear. 

_ ‘You spent two weeks in the greatest honeymoon destination on the planet running around in bikinis and you still haven’t made a move on her.’  _

‘Shh!’ 

_ ‘Did you at least tell her how you feel?’ _

_‘All in good time, mate, alright?’_ Valerie pleaded _. ‘I’m almost there. I just need to be a little more sure.’_

_ ‘More _ ?!  _ More sure _ ?’ Delia needed to refrain  from  smacking Valerie upside the head for being so stupid.  _ ‘She took you to meet her parents, for fucks sake! Do you need her to hold you down and propose marriage or what?!’ _

_ ‘Maybe _ !’ Valerie whisper shouted through clenched teeth.  _ ‘What’s it to you?!’ _

‘What are you two whispering about over there?’ Lucille cut in loudly, and Valerie and Delia pulled away from one another quickly. 

‘Jamaica,’ Valerie quipped, her anger vanished, replaced with a brilliant grin to counter Delia’s scowl. 

‘Oh, gosh how I’d love to go,’ Barbara sighed dreamily. ‘Sounds  delightful . Trix, what do you say? Maybe we could go together sometime?’ 

Trixie scrunched her nose and shook her head, swirling her coffee in her paper cup. ‘Nah. Not for me. Not interested in visiting places where a chicken can ride a bus.’ 

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to Trixie, the woman sipping her coffee and seemingly nonplussed at the reaction from her coworkers and friends at her statement. 

‘You don’t want to go someplace where a...  _ chicken _ … can ride a bus?’ Delia repeated. 

‘Better not go to Delia’s hometown in Wales then,’ Valerie grinned. 

Delia shoved the cackling Valerie so hard the woman almost fell out of her chair. 

‘And just what is wrong with places where a chicken can ride a bus?’ Lucille replied loudly, giving Trixie a sharp glare. 

Trixie seemed a lot more awake just then and looked around for an excuse to leave the room. 

‘Are we talking in hypotheticals?’ Barbara asked, looking up to the ceiling in thought. ‘Or perceptions and observations? Like, what is the sound of one hand clapping? If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?  _ Can  _ a chicken ride a bus? Are we just meant to never know?’

‘Seems like a classist statement if you ask me,’ Lucille continued, sitting straight in her chair as Barbara’s musings went ignored. ‘What’s wrong with places where livestock needs to travel, hmm? Some people can’t afford their own trucks!’ 

‘I’m not trying to be classist! I just don’t want to be around livestock!’ Trixie quickly explained. 

‘You know, if we’re speaking in technicalities, a chicken can ride a bus just about anywhere,’ Delia interjected. 'People are starting to raise chickens here in London again, so... I mean, what’s stopping a chicken from just hopping on any old bus?’ 

‘What, do you think chickens just carry around a few quid to go from one coop to the other?’ Barbara asked with a smirk. 

‘Yeah, what kind of life do you think these chickens lead, traveling from town to town, coop to coop.  Sounds like they’ve got something to hide, I reckon,’ Valerie said, stubbornly crossing her arms. ‘Can’t be trusted, these chickens riding busses. God knows what they’re up to.’ 

Delia rolled her eyes, ‘Of course I’m not saying chickens carry money, but what else are they going to do but ride the bus to get around? They certainly can’t fly!’ 

‘She’s got a point, Trix,’ Valerie said, turning back to the blonde nurse. ‘And at any rate, chickens are dead useful.’ 

‘Oh, really? And just what use is a chicken to you?’ Trixie challenged. 

Valerie stared back at her blankly for a moment, the others in the room looking to her expectantly. 

‘Eggs,’ she finally said. 

‘And?’

‘Meat.’ 

‘And?’ 

Valerie remained silent for several seconds and Delia could almost see the hamster turning the wheel in her head by the expression in her face. 

‘Companionship.’

‘Com- oh really now!’ Trixie threw up her hands exasperated. 

‘What, it’s true! People keep chickens as pets!’ Valerie exclaimed, looking around the room for validation. 

‘Hardly anyone keeps a chicken as a pet! And even if they did, they certainly do not need to bring them on any busses!’ 

Trixie had said this with a tone of finality in her voice, signaling the end of the discussion, the tone of which went entirely unnoticed by Barbara. 

‘OK, but what if it’s an emotional support chicken?’ she added, interlocking her fingers against her chin in thought. 

Everyone groaned and prattled off onto their own side conversations. 

Valerie swatted Delia on the arm, ‘Hey, I was looking at my Netflix queue last night after we got back. Did you watch X-files the  _ entire  _ time I was away?’ 

_ ‘Your _ netflix queue?! You’ve been mooching off my account ever since you moved in!’ 

‘Well you haven’t been bloody well bothered to change the password, so why wouldn’t I?’’ 

Delia rolled her eyes with a groan of frustration as Valerie continued. 

‘Anyway, can you please watch something else for once? My queue keeps suggesting a bunch of dumb sci-fi shit that I have no interest in.’ 

‘Not  _ your _ queue,’ Delia seethed. 

‘You know she won’t because she has a thing for hot redheads,’ Trixie interjected. 

‘This is true,’ Delia agreed. 

‘And you can’t get any better than Gillian,’ Trixie added. 

‘Oh, speaking of hot redheads, did you hear Old Tides has been renewed for a new season?’ Valerie asked.

‘Shut up, what?!’ Delia exclaimed, nearly slamming her hands on the table. ‘I thought the writers were on strike?’ 

‘Creative differences, was it?’ Trixie asked. 

‘No, it was the station didn’t want to renew the show for a second season at first, but it got such a backlash from fans that they caved. I think I heard the first episode premiers later this summer,’ Valerie added. ‘Saw a  trailer for it just this morning.’ 

‘Ooh, great excuse to host a season one rewatch party at my place,’ Trixie mused, sipping the last of her coffee. 

`What's Old Tides?' Barbara asked. 

'Only the best show ever,' Valerie said. 

'It's got  _ everything _ you could ever want in a show,' Trixie added. 

'Like?' 

'Drama, romance, murder mystery, a hot, brooding redheaded protagonist,' Delia ticked off using her fingers. 

'Delia you're the only one who cares about that bit,' Lucille interjected. 

'AND she's a gay. AND a cop,' Delia continued excitedly. 

'That sounds a little like Wynonna Earp,' Barbara replied. 

'What?' 

'Yeah, that show has a character that's a redheaded gay cop.'

There was a beat of silence as everyone in the room simply looked at Barbara. 

'How did I not know this?' Valerie asked. 

'Well it's more popular in the states I think but pretty sure it's on Netflix,' Barbara replied, scratching her cheek on thought.

'No, I know, but as a lesbian I'm predetermined to watch literally anything with lesbians in it. I need to look up this show,' Valerie said, pulling out her phone. 

'Ok, but this show is different because of the added dramatic element that this redheaded lesbian cop was raised in a cult,' Delia continued. 

'Yeah, so was the one in Wynonna Earp. They revealed that in the third season-'

'Wynnona Earp stole the idea from Old Tides then, alright!' Delia  cried passionately, nearly slamming her fists on the table. 

Someone clearing their throat loudly cut through the conversation. 

Everyone in the room looked over to see Phyllis Crane, lead nurse and supervisor to all but Delia, standing in the doorway  wearing the same scrubs as everyone else , the look of disappointment in her eyes as brutal as any mothers . 

‘I daresay you  _ look  _ like medical professionals but sometimes I wonder,’ she said with a subtle roll of her eyes, pulling her files out from under her arm and licking her finger before flipping through  them.

‘Ah, apologies for keeping your staff, Nurse Crane,’ Delia said as she rose from her seat. ‘I’ll let you get on with your morning briefings.’ 

‘Not so fast Dr. Busby,’ Phylllis held her hand up, and Delia halted in her movements. ‘I have a tidbit of information that concerns you, too.’ 

Delia looked to the other women with an eyebrow raised and they all looked just as ignorant as Delia felt. She sat back down in her chair. 

‘Is it about cleaning out the fridge again?’ Valerie asked. ‘Because I swear I took care of that before I left and whatever that smell is, it’s  _ not  _ my fault.’ 

‘Nurse Dyer, my briefing has nothing to do with that smell or the contents of the refrigerator,’ Phyllis sighed. ‘Though I will say that anything that is left at the end of this Friday is going to be chucked in the bin.’ 

‘It’s either bad meat or good cheese,’ Lucille added with a sniff, and Valerie n odded in agreement.

‘A new staff member has arrived this morning!’ Phyllis began, puffing out her chest as if she were about to begin a long monologue, but she was interrupted before she could start . 

‘Ooh, how exciting!’ Trixie exclaimed, 

‘Is it a boy or girl?’ Barbara added, Trixie leaned into her with a giggle. 

‘Woman, I’ll have you know. A new doctor, actually,’ Phyllis continued. 

'Finally,' Delia quipped. 

'Julienne hired someone to take  some of the load off you, eh?' Trixie asked. 

'Good woman. I might finally be able to have a weekend to myself again. Even take a holiday,' Delia sighed and finished off her tea.

‘Someplace where a chicken can ride a bus?’ Barbara asked with a grin, earning a befuddled look from Phyllis.

‘So who's the new doctor, Phyllis?’ Delia asked lazily. ‘When is she due to arrive? Maybe I can show her around, give her a rundown of how things  work around here.’ 

‘Oh, well Julienne will do a fine job of  _ that  _ I’m sure,’ Phyllis took a moment to flip through some papers and clear her throat ‘Name’s Mount. Dr. Patience Mount.’ 

Time seemed to slow for Delia in that moment.

She knew the name Patience Mount, but for the life of her she couldn’t place it. Where had she heard that name before?

‘Delia, you alright?’ Lucille asked quietly. ‘Look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’ 

Delia shook her head, ignoring Lucille's enquiry. ‘Mount?’ Delia asked. ‘ _ Doctor  _ Mount?'

Phyllis nodded and placed her glasses on her nose, squinting as she brought the papers closer to her face. 

‘That is the information I have here, Dr. Busby. Julienne discussed this with you, yes?’

Delia blinked, recalling a meeting only one week ago with Julienne, a retired doctor turned overseer of Nonnatus clinic here in Poplar, and while Delia could not recall the specifics of the meeting, she knew the funding had been requested to hire another doctor for their growing  patient list . There was something about  _ this _ doctor in particular that left her with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something just didn't sit right with her about someone named Patience Mount and it bothered her that she couldn't put her finger on it. 

‘Yes but… are you sure?' Delia asked. 'I mean, is she good enough? What are her credentials even?’

‘What’s wrong? Just a second ago you were offering to show her around,’ Barbara interjected. 

‘Yeah, not feeling jealous you won’t be the only doctor around here, are you?’ Lucille asked. 

Delia laughed nervously and made a noise as if the assumption was absurd, but it was hardly convincing to the other nurses in the room. 

‘The resume in front of me suggests she is up to the task, Dr. Busby,’ Phyllis remarked as she read over her files, the papers  hiding her face as she held them close to her eyes. ‘Graduate degree in biology at Harvard, attended Johns Hopkins  University School of Medicine with a focus on obstetrics, and a follow on PhD. in applied health and sciences at the same university. Additionally, she has authored and co-authored several published academic articles and journals alongside the professors at the university there.’

Delia’s eye twitched at this woman's spectacular resume as Valerie gave a low whistle. 

‘Sounds like a real smarty pants,’ Barbara remarked. 

Phyllis  lowered the paperwork and looked directly at a scowling Delia. ‘I’d say she’ll be a fine addition to our staff.’ 

‘Wait, those are all American schools. Is she American?’ Trixie asked. 

‘Ooh! How exotic!’ added Barbara. 

‘Man, I’d love to visit America someday,’ Valerie interjected, getting a far off look in her eye. ‘You know, maybe go the old fashioned way by boat like my ancestors did.’ 

‘Your ancestors have lived in the east end for 500 years,’ Lucille said. 

‘They could have gone for a visit and come back,’ Valerie shrugged. 'Be interesting to go by boat, wouldn't it? Maybe sail into Pearl Harbour and see the Statue of Liberty. Probably get in the car and drive across the country, see the sights. What would that take, like 5 hours? Then maybe get on another boat and visit Milwaukee.’ 

‘You want to take a boat to Milwaukee?’ Barabra asked, looking thoroughly confused. 

‘Yeah, that’s the capital of Hawai’i, right?’ 

There was a pregnant pause as everyone in the room looked to Valerie with an expression of astonishment. 

‘Will someone please get Valerie a bloody globe!’ Trixie shouted. 

‘Wait a minute, wait a minute, hang on,’ Lucille interjected. ‘Val, name all the states you can right now. Go.’ 

‘Alright, fine,’ Valerie said, sitting up in her chair and counting off on her fingers. ‘New York, California, Texas, Florida… Canada.’

‘Eeh, wrong,’ Lucille said, sounding like a buzzer on a game show. 

‘Canada could be a state if it wanted to,’ she muttered. 

‘I’m pretty sure Canada wants nothing to do with the US right about now,’ Lucille replied. 

‘I kind of wonder what this Mount person is doing here with the likes of us in little old Poplar,’ Barbara thought out loud. 

Delia wondered the same thing herself, desperately hoping that Patience had been a popular name at some point in time and this this one was someone other than who she  had suddenly remembered . 

‘Well, that’s that for now,’ Phyllis said, snapping her files shut and removing her glasses from her nose. 

A knock at the door  caught everyone’s attention as Julienne popped her head into the room. 

'Is now a good time, Nurse Crane?’ 

‘Of course, Julienne, please come in,’ she replied, stepping aside. 

Another person followed Julienne into the room, a woman. She was tall, hair plaited and pinned up professionally with nary a strand out of place. She wore a smart blouse and trousers that were fitted to hug the curves of her trim body just right. High cheekbones and blue eyes, her full lips pulled back in a subtle and unassuming fishhook smirk. 

She was, for all intents and purposes, gorgeous. Though Delia barely noticed as a barrage of memories  flooded her mind at the sight of her, filling her stomach with dread, her heart racing with anxiety. The woman looked completely different from how Delia remembered her, but nonetheless, she was the very same woman she’d feared she would be.

In the seconds it took for Dr. Mount’s eyes to scan the room and acknowledge the others, Delia clenched her teeth and tried to remain as stone faced as possible, watching Patsy’s features as the woman's eyes landed on her and her expression changed. Patsy's eyes locked on her and Delia watched as she raised a curious eyebrow. It seemed Patsy recognized her, too. Delia wished she could run away. There was no escape. Should she comment on it? Should she pretend they had never met one another before? 

Valerie jabbed her elbow into Delia’s arm, and when Delia whipped around to look at her, she caught the woman mouthing the words ‘ _ Hot redhead _ !’ behind her hand, wiggling her eyebrows at her. 

Delia kicked her under the table and whispered a frantic ‘ _ shut up _ !’, thinking it didn't matter how beautiful this woman was on the outside, Delia knew her to be a  truly terrible person on the inside. 

And Delia was not at all looking forward to being in the same  postcode as her, let alone working  alongside her. 

‘ Good morning all ,’ Julienne began cheerily, ‘I’d like you to meet Dr. Mount, who has just arrived from Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore, and has graciously accepted the offer to join our team here on such short notice.’ 

‘Baltimore? I thought that was a city off the arse end of Ireland?’ Valerie asked, leaning towards Lucille. 

‘No sweetie, this one is from the states. You know, it’s, um, around New York City,’ Trixie replied, sounding as if she were talking to a child given Valerie's lack of knowledge of North American geography. 

‘I think it’s a little further south than that,’ Lucille quipped. 

‘Haven’t you seen the movie about hairspray?’ Trixie asked Valerie. 

Barbara gave an uncharacteristically annoyed sigh, ‘ _ No _ , Trixie, the movie is not  _ about _ hairspray, it’s a musical about Baltimore as it pertained to race relations in the 1960’s.’

‘Oh, well, I’d actually never  _ seen  _ it either, I just thought it was a documentary about hair products that happened to be  _ filmed _ in Baltimore.’ 

Barbara rolled her eyes, obviously annoyed with Trixie’s lack of knowledge of Tony award-winning musicals. 

‘You ever been shot?’ 

‘Valerie!’ Trixie scolded. 

‘What!? Americans get shot all the time, it’s a legitimate question!’ 

‘Ooh, I have one,’ Lucille interjected. ‘Have you ever been to Disney World?’ 

‘I also have a question,’ Barbara interjected. ‘How come in America, the cheese is orange?’ 

‘Can we keep comments and questions to a  _ professional _ nature please?’ Phyllis sighed, sounding as if she were overseeing a group of primary school students instead of nurses. 

Delia tapped her fingers nervously on the table as she watched Patsy’s blue eyes ping pong from side to side as she regarded her new co-workers silly comments. 

‘Does anyone else find it ironic that the American in the room is the skinniest one out of all of us?’ 

‘Trixie, what did I just say!’ Phyllis scolded. 

‘You know you’re right,’ Barbara tried to whisper. ‘Thought they’d be a bit more round in the belly but this one seems quite fit.’ 

‘I’m just going to chime in here and say I’m not actually American,’ Patsy finally interjected, her voice calm and professional and accented with a heightened RP. 

There was a collective gasp from the nurses in the room, with the exception of Phyllis. 

‘Bloody hell!' Barbara swore uncharacteristically. 'She’s English!’ 

‘And posh!’ added Trixie. 

‘My question still stands,  _ have you ever been shot _ .’ 

‘Valerie, for gods sake,’ Trixie pleaded, crushing her paper cup in her hand. 

Not that Delia would have the gumption to say anything right at this moment, but even if she hadn't ever met Patsy in her life and wasn't overwhelmed with anxiety, she would still have been rendered absolutely speechless by the myriad of idiotic questions being asked by her co-workers and friends. 

‘Righty-o,' Patsy began, taking a breath of air. 'First, Baltimore is a city in the state of Maryland on the east coast of the country, located between Philadelphia and Washington DC. Second, no, I’ve never been shot nor have I ever been in danger of being shot. Third, yes, I’ve been to Disney World and it's truly as great as it seems if you can stand the long lines and the muggy Florida weather. Fourth, cheese turns orange when it's processed with annatto, which many American cheeses are. I only know this because I was curious about it myself when I first arrived and looked it up.'

The room was stunned to silence as Patsy continued to smile politely and rock on her heels. 

'Any further questions?' she asked. 

Patsy looked around the room and held her hands behind her back, and Delia had to admit she answered all questions with the patience of a teacher. Seemed fitting given her background. 

'Did you  _ know _ anyone who got shot?' 

Trixie threw her empty paper cup at Valerie's head. 

'Well I think it's about time we all prepared to  let patients in for the day,' Julienne interjected. 'But before we let you go, I just wanted to make quick introductions.' 

Julienne gestured around the room as she addressed each nurse. 

'Here we have our most senior nurse Trixie Franklin, then Barbara Gilbert, Lucille Anderson, who is our  most recently qualified  nurse here, and Valerie Dyer, who is our resident lactation consultant at the clinic.'

'Hiya,' Valerie smiled and waved. 

'They all report to our head nurse here, Phyllis Crane.'

'Welcome aboard, Dr. Mount,' Phyllis said, extending her hand. Patsy took it and looked a little  taken aback by such a firm shake. 

'And of course, this is Dr. Busby, your counterpart,' Julienne finished, extending her hand in Delia's direction. 'Would you come with us please, Dr. Busby?'

All eyes turned to Delia, and she felt the colour drain from her face. 

'Certainly,' she said stiffly. She rose from her seat and followed the other two out of the small kitchen area and tried to ignore the excited tittering of the nurses behind her. 

The three women walked down the hallway towards Julienne’s office, and Delia tried to listen as Julienne carried on conversationally. 

'I know you've got your hands full enough as it is Dr. Busby, so I'll work with Dr. Mount this week to get her up to speed as best as I can .'

Julienne stopped in front of her office and turned to the two women. 

'You know, the important things, like where the bathroom is and how to log into the employee portal.'

Delia focused on Julienne as she spoke, painfully aware that Patsy's eyes were on her face. Why was this woman staring at her? It was making her ears turn red, which only made her more uncomfortable. 

'I have already set up a profile for Dr. Mount so new patients arriving can select her as their primary doctor, in conjunction with taking on any walk-ins. Though I understand Dr. Turner will be in this morning to follow up with your patients?' Julienne asked. 

'That's correct,' Delia replied, trying to sound as professional as possible. 'I've stopped in to check on my emails and follow up with questions from patients submitted to the portal, but I'll be off to The London as soon as I'm done to examine and discharge a fresh round of new infants and their mothers.'

'Always a happy day when they can go home,' Julienne smiled. 

'I'm sorry I won't be around today to show you the ropes,' Delia forced a smile as she addressed Patsy for the first time. 'But Dr. Turner is the consultant for this clinic and always makes himself available to answer any questions.'

Delia briefly looked Patsy in the eye and noticed the woman seemed… distracted. She had some silly look on her face like she was off in lala land with her stupid quirked eyebrow and her stupid little smirk. What was this woman thinking? Surely she wasn't mocking Delia, was she? Did she think she was better than her? Of course she probably did. Delia bet that bitch hadn't changed one bit since they had first met. 

Delia seethed with a hot rage that burned the inside of her chest. 

'Oh, I realized I haven't formally introduced you two,' Julienne interjected, breaking Delia from her thoughts, 'Delia, Patsy; Patsy, Delia.'

Delia opened her mouth before she could think. 'Oh we've-,'

'Pleasure,' Patsy interjected, extending her hand. 

'Oh, um yes, likewise,' Delia said, sounding very uncertain as she briefly shook Patsy's hand. 

Alright so it seemed they were going to pretend they had never met before. Delia wasn't quite sure how to feel about this, but regardless, she was going to feel uneasy no matter what. She reasoned she could live with pretending they  didn’t know one another . For now. 

* * *

My, oh my. 

Patsy kept thinking to herself over and over again from the moment she locked eyes with the brunette wearing that pretty blouse and white doctor’s coat

My, oh my, oh my. 

There was a brief, _very_ brief, moment of panic in Patsy's heart when she entered that little kitchen. For when she laid eyes on her, she thought for a _split_ _second_ it was Moonyung sitting there looking back at her with those pretty eyes. 

But it wasn't. This was a completely different woman. A completely different woman who just happened to have similar brunette hair worn down around her shoulders, similar dimples when she smiled, similar height and similar shape to her body. 

This Delia person certainly was  _ not _ Moonyung, but she very much reminded her of the woman, and if this Delia was anything like her ex, and if Patsy were smart, she would do well to stay far, far away. 

But then Delia spoke, and Patsy found herself enchanted by the musical cadence of that Welsh accent. The sound of her voice drew Patsy in and she  briefly perused all the potential scenarios where she could engage Delia in conversation just to hear her speak, to be close to her, to admire her. 

Patsy's head remained in the clouds up until she was confronted with the sight of Dr. Busby walking away, the long white coat she wore doing nothing to deter Patsy from admiring the sway in her hips with each step she took before she disappeared around a corner. 

Patsy was in trouble. Oh, boy, was she in trouble. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My oh my, indeed.


	4. This Charming (Wo)Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delia turned over in bed and screamed into her pillow, angry with herself for letting Patsy occupy so much space in her head.  
> Cycling. Cycling would clear her head...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would go out tonight  
> But I haven't got a stitch to wear  
> This man said "it's gruesome  
> That someone so handsome should care  
> La, la-la, la-la, la-la, this charming (wo)man  
> Oh, la-la, la-la, la-la, this charming (wo)man

Delia woke up that Sunday morning feeling rather grumpy. Sure, she was all nice and cozy in her fluffy duvet and pillows and much too comfortable to get up just yet, but she had spent the night before like she had the last several nights, tossing and turning and finding it difficult to sleep. 

Her life had been absolutely hell since Monday. 

The return of Patience Mount to her life brought with it all the repressed memories of how terrible the woman had been to her way back when, and it was seriously affecting her ability to get a decent night's sleep. 

Her desperate attempts to avoid all things Patsy at work were all for naught, much to her dismay. While she avoided being face to face with the woman at all costs, it didn't help when everyone else just wouldn’t shut up about how _great_ she was. 

Trixie and Barbara were the first to betray her, succumbing to Patsy's charms with one measly conversation. She's so posh! So stylish! Knew loads about music and even collected records! 

_Bah_! Delia thought, thinking that Patsy was just another spoiled rich girl, if she remembered correctly. Of course she could always afford to dress fancy. She was probably as shallow and vapid as Delia remembered.

And who cares about records anyway? Everyone collected records! Patsy was probably lying, only saying she collected records to sound trendy, Delia thought, to make others _think_ she was cool. Well, she wasn't. She was a fraud. A poser! The thought only made Delia more upset. 

Delia was rather surprised when she witnessed Lucille gushing over her next. So smart! she had said, going on and on about such thoughtful and provocative discussions over literature and science and health and reproductive rights and _blah blah blah._

Delia frowned at her ceiling. _She_ was smart too! Sure, she didn't have a PhD but she knew things! She could talk about things! Smart things! She kept up with the news! Read books! 

Val was the last holdout. The last ally Delia _thought_ she had against Patsy's interference in their little group. Being raised a working class east ender, Valerie typically rolled her eyes at the snobbish behavior of the London elite, an attitude with which Delia sympathized, being from the humble countryside herself. She had hoped Valerie wouldn’t cave so readily at the sight of a box of fresh pastries set out for the whole staff to enjoy that Friday morning, but alas! That was all it took for Valerie to think the woman was 'Pretty grand!'

 _Et tu, Valerie?!_ Delia had wanted to shout as she watched Valerie that Friday morning stuff her face with a second helping of chocolate drizzled strawberry jam sugar cream puffs! 

In Delia's mind, being offered food by Patsy was akin to the witch offering snow white the poisoned apple. She wouldn't take the bait! 

_'Patsy’s so wonderful at this, so knowledgeable about that,_ ' Delia said petulantly to no one in her bedroom before sticking out her tongue and blowing a raspberry. 

Delia could see past the ruse. Delia knew the truth, that deep down Patsy was a maniacal cold hearted bitch! 

She turned over in bed and screamed into her pillow, angry with herself for letting Patsy occupy so much space in her head, conjuring up all these terrible memories and sour emotions. She needed a break from it all. She wanted to feel happy again for once. 

Cycling. Cycling would clear her head. Really any exercise would do, but it was finally nice enough outside to take her bike off the hooks and go for a spin. She needed groceries anyway. 

Delia rolled out of bed and was out the door within the hour. She clicked on her helmet nice and snug and set off at a steady pace. Being a Sunday morning the streets weren’t too busy, and even though it had been months since Delia had ridden her bike she was feeling much better with each passing moment, enjoying the sound of the wind as she whizzed along the winding streets and feeling the burning in her calves. It was almost enough to make her forget about her stressful week, her usual anxiety from being overworked only exacerbated by the presence of Patsy Mount. 

Ugh, don't start _that_ again, brain, Delia thought to herself. No more energy spent today thinking about _that_ dreadful woman! 

Though, she had to admit to herself that it was rather difficult to _not_ think about her when she was sitting right there. 

Wait a minute. 

Delia caught sight of that familiar red hair and looked over just in time to lock eyes with Patsy, the woman sitting alone at a table outside a cafe with her phone in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. The cup halted mid way to her mouth as Patsy watched Delia whizz by. 

Panic coursed through Delia at having not only been spotted, but recognized. What made matters worse was that in the seconds she had taken her eyes off the road, some idiot lorry driver decided to swing open his door right before she was about to pass him. 

With a shout and an ungodly crunch, Delia's whole body collided with the door, hitting the thing with such force it swung back on its hinges and grinded painfully as if it were about to break away from the rest of the vehicle. Delia was in no better state as she bounced back and fell, landing hard on the tarmac and finding herself a mess of blood and limbs entangled in her poor old 10 speed. 

Her groaning failed to drown out the sound of someone shouting. She blinked open her eyes and saw the pretty blue sky that was soon eclipsed by the sight of a very old, very angry looking man who was red in the face screaming at her for God knows why. 

_'My door_ ,' something something, _'watch where you're bloody going,_ ' something something blah blah blah. There was a throbbing purple vein in the man's head that pulsed and honestly grossed Delia out. Even in her state she knew he was being ridiculous and rightly ignored him. 

Delia forced herself to sit up, knowing she was in the road still, needing to move, needing to figure out why this man was screeching like a banshee. She tried to rise, but her head spun when she sat up and she placed her hand on the ground to steady herself and hoped the spins would go away. 

'Hey!' 

Delia looked up and focused on a figure approaching. Long legs. Red hair. 

Patsy. Fuck. 

'Oh, great,' Delia muttered to herself, feeling thoroughly pissed off and embarrassed in her current state. Angry that she was now forced to interact with her, and embarrassed that she slammed her whole body into the back of a lorry door and was quite literally a bloody mess. 

She unclicked her helmet and tossed it somewhere as Patsy kneeled down next to her, the woman also rightly ignoring the truck driver screaming like a lunatic. 

'Come on Delia,' Patsy said, her voice calm and collected. 'Let's get you out of the road. Can you stand for me?' 

Without waiting for an answer Delia felt Patsy grasp her under the arm and help her rise to a standing position. Delia couldn't help but grunt at the exertion, her hips and knees sore from taking the brunt of the impact when she hit the ground. 

Once Patsy had gotten Delia safely to the curb, she went back and collected Delia's bike and helmet, effectively shooing away the angry driver when she shut his door to show him it was perfectly fine. He continued to yell more obscenities, but eventually got back in his lorry with a huff. 

Delia did have to admit that once that god awful man stopped his screeching the pounding in her head subsided substantially. 

'Dickhead,' Patsy grumbled as he drove off. 

The sound of Patsy swearing was almost enough for Delia to crack a smile as Patsy sat down next to her on the curb, but then Delia remembered who Patsy was and her mouth turned to a scowl. 

'You didn't have to-,' Delia started, cut off abruptly when she felt Patsy's hand on her chin. 

'Delia, look at me.'

Delia focused on Patsy and winced as a light flashed in her eyes. 

'I'm alright, just got the wind knocked out of me,' Delia half lied. She could really use an aspirin. Also perhaps a shot of whiskey. 

'I'm sure, but you hit that door pretty hard. Just want to rule out a concussion.'

Patsy put her phone away when she seemed satisfied that Delia's pupils were reacting appropriately. 'How many fingers am I holding up?' she asked. 

'Three,' Delia said, sounding bored. She resisted rolling her eyes as she felt this was terribly unnecessary.

'Who is the president of the United States?'

Delia quirked an unamused eyebrow. 'Please don't make me say it,' she replied. 

'Fine, Prime Minister?'

'Don't want to talk about him either,’ Delia mumbled, placing her chin in her hand. 

Patsy smiled, 'Any headache? Nausea? Do you feel like you need to vomit?' 

Not from crashing into the truck, Delia thought to herself. She really wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole. She wanted Patsy to just go away, wished the woman hadn't seen her at all. She really hated that Patsy was helping her, being so kind to her. She resented it and refused to enjoy it. 

'No, I'm fine really,' Delia stressed, wanting nothing more than to leave. 'You don't need to make a fuss, I'll be able to walk it off, I promise. I'm fine.' 

'Can't say the same for your poor bike,' Patsy replied, looking over her shoulder. 

Delia followed her gaze to her bike and gave a sad sigh. It did look a right mess, the front tire completely flattened and her chain was left snapped and dangling. 

Patsy was digging around in her rucksack for something and Delia watched as she pulled out a little kit in a white box. 

'What's that for?' Delia asked. 

'Emergencies, of course.' 

'You just carry around a first aid kit with you everywhere?' 

'I wouldn't be much of a doctor if I wasn't prepared,' Patsy replied, giving the kit a little shake, the contents of which rattled inside. 'Besides, it's coming in handy right about now, wouldn't you say?' 

Delia blushed as Patsy grasped her arm once more and used an antiseptic wipe to clean the dirt from a pretty nasty scrape on her elbow she hadn't even noticed until just then. 

She sat motionless and watched as Patsy applied some germolene and a fresh plaster with the delicate care that only a good doctor would have. 

'You've got another one here,' Patsy said matter of fact as she gently leaned Delia forward and pressed her hand against the small of her back. 

Delia twisted herself around and raised her shirt to reveal another nasty scrape that looked a right mess, bloody and scratched and slowly turning purple. 

'May I?' 

Delia gave an aggravated sigh, but did not reply, simply turning around and leaning forward, resting her elbows on her knees with her chin in her hand. 

She couldn't help but let her eyes linger on a pair of long, slender legs with a simple pair of white trainers at the end. Had they been attached to anyone else Delia would have appreciated the view a lot more, but she was not particularly inclined to enjoy this. However her eyes rested on a series of plasters along Patsy's knees and shins, other parts of her skin looking a bit beat up and red. 

'You looked about as scratched up as I do,' Delia commented blithely. 

'Hmm?' 

'Your knees. You get hit by a lorry too?' 

'Nothing so drastic,' Patsy replied. Delia couldn't see her, but she could tell she was smiling. 'Just been spending my evenings doing some rather aggressive gardening. Things at home have been left to their own devices for far too long so I've been trying to wrangle it in a bit.'

Delia gave a grunt of acknowledgement, rather impressed that someone like Patsy would partake in anything that would get her hands dirty. 

Her anger from earlier was subsiding with each passing moment as Patsy took the time to patiently and skillfully attend to her nasty scrape with the delicacy of a doctor. It almost made Delia blush, but she fought it off. 

'Um, thank you,' Delia mumbled as she felt Patsy pull her top back down around her hip. 'Any others?' 

'No, not that I can see from here,' Patsy replied gently. 

Patsy put her kit away and rose and extended her hands, helping Delia to her feet, the woman wincing in pain at the motion. 

'Alright?' Patsy asked. 

'Yeah, just a little sore,' Delia replied, letting out a breath.

'Can I help you with your bike?' Patsy asked, nodding her head in the direction of the mangled hunk of metal beside them. 'I know a place close by that might be able to fix it up,'

'Brick Lane?' Delia asked.

'That's the one. Gosh, is that still open?' Patsy asked conversationally as she set Delia's bike upright and placed her helmet in the handlebar basket. 

'Yeah, why wouldn't it be?' Delia asked, thinking this was a strange question. 

'Oh, no reason,’ Patsy smiled, looking away and seeming very bashful all of a sudden. 

Delia would have thought she looked rather endearing if she didn’t hate her so much. 

‘It's just been a long time since I've been home. Just been interesting to see how things around here have changed since I've been gone, or not changed, really.'

Patsy hitched her rucksack onto her shoulders and smiled at Delia.

'Ready?' 

Delia began to feel increasingly uncomfortable with Patsy being so nice to her. 

'Um, you really don't have to, I can certainly-'

'Nonsense, it's no trouble at all,’ Patsy insisted gently. 

Delia's heart sank even further in her chest. She kind of wished Patsy would take the hint and bugger off. 'Really, I don't want to interrupt your brunch. You must be waiting for someone or…?' 

'Ah, no, actually. Just thought I'd get out of the house for a bit and I stopped for some tea.'

‘Oh you were just… by yourself?’ 

Patsy merely shrugged shyly and nodded. 

Delia scratched her cheek, the sinking feeling in her chest changing from one of dread to one of, what was it, pity? Was she really feeling pity for this woman for brunching alone right now? Hadn’t she said she just moved back home? Surely she had old friends around. Family for certain. 

Delia shook her head and cleared her throat to rid herself of any and all feelings. Besides, it was perfectly fine and normal for someone to go out on their own, wasn't it? She was out on her own now getting groceries! She didn't need to feel sorry for Patsy, no! 

Though with Patsy looking at her like that, she realized with a heavy sigh that she just wasn’t going to shake Patsy yet. 

‘Um, alright. Thanks,’ Delia said begrudgingly. 

Patsy smiled, and the two set off with Patsy pushing Delia’s bike between them. 

A few moments of awkward silence passed as Delia hobbled along. 

‘Were you headed anywhere in particular this morning?’ Patsy asked conversationally. 

‘Erm, farmers market, near the park,’ Delia replied. 

‘Oh, is that what these are for?’ Patsy asked, holding up one of the several mesh bags that Delia had in her handlebar basket. 

‘Yeah, part of my Sunday routine these days,’ Delia tried to give a friendly smile but she was sure she just looked pained. ‘Usually the only day I have to myself, really.’ 

‘Well, hopefully now that I’m on board you’ll have a few more days to yourself.’ 

Delia gave a nervous laugh and nodded in agreement, looking down at her shoes as they walked on. 

‘So do you have any plans for all this new free time you're going to have?’ Patsy asked. 

‘Oh, gosh, I dunno really. Probably take a class for fun or actually finish a book!’ Delia laughed again. ‘More likely than not I’ll spend some time catching up on all the tv shows I’ve been putting off. I’d like to think I’d call my parents more, but we’ll see.’ 

‘Are you close with them?’ 

‘I suppose as close as I can be. They’re back in Pembrokeshire with my brothers.’ 

‘Oh? How many brothers do you have? What do they do?’ 

Delia rubbed her arm awkwardly, feeling rather uneasy with all of Patsy’s questioning even as she prattled off some casual information about her family; their occupations, their hobbies, interesting tidbits about growing up in Wales. 

Delia was still unsure as to _why_ Patsy was being so nice to her, not thoroughly convinced that Patsy had completely forgotten who she was. Perhaps Patsy _had_ remembered and she was just trying to be nice to make up for her terrible behaviour in the past? Or if she truly had no idea who Delia was, maybe Patsy felt sorry for her when she smashed her bike into that lorry door and was just trying to be friendly? 

Nonetheless, whatever Patsy’s reasons were for acting as she was now, it almost caught Delia off guard at how much she was enjoying the attention. 

It was almost like how people got to know one another when on a date. But this wasn't a date! Why did this feel like a date?! 

What was happening?!

‘So, um, how about you?’ Delia asked quickly, hoping she didn't sound too panicked. She worked hard to clear her head and ignore how she was breaking out into a cold sweat. 

‘Hmm?’ Patsy asked, glancing over to Delia looking quite at ease. 

Delia’s nostrils flared with annoyance with how cool and calm Patsy was being right now. Or was she more annoyed with herself with how she was letting Patsy's mere presence affect her? 

‘Feel like I’ve gone on about my family enough,’ Delia laughed nervously again, working hard to push down every feeling she had ever had. ‘Are you close with your parents? Do you have any brothers or sisters?’ 

‘Oh,’ Patsy stopped, and Delia looked ahead of them to see several bicycles for sale chained up along the front of a shop. ‘Is this it?’ 

‘Oh, um,’ Delia coughed, finding it rather peculiar that her questions went ignored, but she chose not to comment on it. ‘I can take it in.’ 

Patsy passed over the bike and opened the door for Delia who walked it through. The attendant behind the counter looked up from their magazine and tutted at the poor state of the bike, and told them to come back in an hour after Delia explained to them how the bicycle got into such a state. 

The two women walked out of the shop to the sound of a mallet banging out a dent in the mud guard, and Delia tried not to think about just how much abuse her poor bike was taking this morning.

‘Shall we?’ Patsy asked, holding up a few of Delia’s bags. 

‘Oh, Patsy, you don’t need to-’

‘It’s alright, I mean,’ Patsy looked away rather embarrassed as she rubbed the back of her neck, ‘I haven’t really got much else to do today anyway. Besides, my cupboards could do with a bit of stocking up.’ 

Delia held back the frustrated moan, rather miffed that Patsy was going to tag along while she shopped for groceries! 

Unable to stand the silence as they walked, Delia chatted a bit more about her own family, seeing as Patsy was reluctant to reveal any information about hers. Once again, as Delia became caught up in her chatting she did feel the slightest bit appreciated as Patsy really seemed to listen, smiling and making eye contact and asking follow up questions. 

This was far from a date, but Delia decided if she were to ever go on a date again she would look out for signs like these while chatting with said date. 

Delia found herself in better spirits by the time they arrived at the market, despite being there with the woman who had once made her life very, very miserable. 

There were white tents everywhere, covering vendors and their goods from the sun as people swarmed around to get a good look at what they were selling or to try free samples. 

‘Let’s start over here,’ Delia began, pointing in one direction but stopped abruptly when she felt Patsy’s hand on her arm. 

‘What’s that over there?’ 

Delia looked to Patsy’s enthusiastic expression and followed her gaze to a group of young girls in school uniforms dancing around to some music playing from an old ghettoblaster. Several adults, who Delia could only imagine to be the parents, were standing around, chatting. They appeared to be raising money for something. 

‘Can we go and see?’ Patsy asked, a playfulness in her expression and voice. 

‘Um,’ Delia managed to get out before Patsy took the initiative and began to walk over to the booth. 

‘If you make a donation to the soup kitchen you can have a turn at a station,’ one of the girls said, holding out a jar. 

Her hair was a mess, her glasses too big for her little face along with her oversized clothing made her look more than adorable as she wiggled a loose tooth with her tongue. Upon closer inspection, Delia recognized the crest on the girls jumper as one of a nearby Catholic school, the soup kitchen referenced on the jar was ‘Our Daily Bread’. 

‘Of course I will,’ Patsy said, pulling out a £5 note. 

‘You can play with the hula hoops, or play bubbles in the pool, or-’

‘Sparklers!’ cried another girl. 

Several of the girls screamed and ran after another classmate who ran circles around the adults and their table holding a lit sparkler in either hand. 

The parental guardians seemed nonplused. 

The ghettoblaster fittingly played Firework by Katie Perry as Patsy picked up a hula hoop. 

‘What do you think Delia? Want to give it a go?’ she asked with a smile, standing in the middle of a bright pink hoop and pulling it up around her waist. 

Delia shook her head, ‘Knock yourself out, I’m still a little…’ she winced and grasped onto her shoulder for emphasis. 

‘Ah, well, this won’t take long anyway. Haven’t done this in years.’ 

After a few failed attempts and a lot of laughter, Patsy managed to set her hips to a rhythm and speed that kept the hula hoop gliding seamlessly around her hips. She looked rather proud of herself once she got the hang of it. 

Delia couldn’t help but laugh too, thinking to herself that Patsy looked quite a picture with the sparklers and bubbles floating around her, the little round globes gleaming rainbow when they caught the sun. Patsy looked positively radiant and seemed to be genuinely having fun.

Delia had to admit to herself that she was starting to enjoy herself, too. 

She was starting to question if Patsy was still the woman, or girl, rather, that she once knew. 

‘Wow, you’re really good at that,’ said one of the girls. 

Delia blinked and realized they were surrounded by little ones. 

‘My mum can do it like that!’ 

‘I can hula on my arm!’ 

‘So can I!’ 

‘I can do it around my neck, watch!’ 

The group of girls reached for and fought over the remaining hula hoops on the ground showing off their respective hula skills. Someone started crying and a parent finally intervened. 

‘Think that’ll be our cue to move on,’ Patsy winked, giving a final wave to the girls and leaving the ensuing chaos behind. 

Delia allowed Patsy to lead, letting the woman look around and explore the various stalls since it was her first time there. She did consider splitting up to save time, but Delia kept quiet, finding she didn’t mind them taking their time, watching Patsy pick up the odd fruit here and there to give it a curious sniff, or to taste samples of honey or roasted almonds. They were surrounded by delicious foods, and that's where the conversation led. They discussed things like their favorite recipes and the ones they wanted to try, documentaries they had seen about the importance of salt and oils, where in the world they would like to visit to try their foods, and their guilty pleasures. 

An hour had flown by, and the two of them snagged a free spot on the grass and relieved themselves of the bags of groceries that were near to bursting. Patsy dug through to find some freshly baked bread and jam, and they carried on their conversation and enjoyed their snack, adding some of the different kinds of cheeses and vegetables to nibble on. 

‘I’m tempted to open the wine I bought,’ Patsy remarked, popping a pistachio into her mouth. 

Delia perked up, thinking a glass of wine in the park on a Sunday afternoon sounded like a lovely idea. 

Still very much a date activity but _this is most definitely not a date!_ Delia thought to herself. 

Before she could reply, the playful tones of little chimes filled the air, and at the same time both she and Patsy reached for their pockets. 

‘Oh, sorry-’ Patsy began. 

‘That’s me-’ replied Delia. 

‘Wait, you’re ringing too?’ 

They both blinked and scrambled for their phones, Delia wondering if Patsy was thinking the same thing she was, that there was an emergency at the hospital they were being called in for. 

‘Hello?’ Delia answered, feeling the adrenaline drain from her body when she realized it was only the bike shop calling to tell her that her bike had been repaired and was ready to be picked up. 

Delia hung up at the same time as Patsy. 

‘Everything alright?’ 

‘I have to go home,’ Patsy replied, looking a little befuddled. 

Delia merely raised an eyebrow. 

‘Sorry, seems my things have arrived from the States and they’re on their way to drop everything off,’ she blinked, tucking her phone back into her pocket. ‘Not that I mind them coming, I just didn’t expect them to deliver on a Sunday.’ 

Delia stood from her spot and wiped the grass off the back of her legs. ‘Why don’t you go home then and I can grab my bike? They just called to tell me it’s ready.’ 

‘Delia, I couldn’t,’ Patsy replied, rising to a standing position herself. ‘I should help you get your things back to your place.’ 

‘Patsy, I’m perfectly capable-’ Delia began,but stopped as Patsy shook her head and reached for the bags. 

'Delia it’s OK. You don’t need to put any more strain on your body than it’s already gone through today. I’ll carry these, alright?’ 

‘But your delivery?’

‘I’m sure they’ll get stuck in traffic on the way there,’ Patsy shrugged. ‘I have some time.’

Patsy beamed despite Delia’s consternated look. ‘Come on, let’s go get your bike.’ 

Patsy was off and walking in the direction of the shop, leaving Delia watching after her, wondering if she had ever met anyone who could be so kind, yet so stubborn. 

She trotted after the redhead, struggling to keep herself from admiring the view from behind. 

Soon, Delia rolled her repaired bicycle out of the shop with a grin on her face. 

‘Think it looks better than when I bought it,’ she remarked, looking over to Patsy. She dropped her smile when she noted Patsy looking at her phone anxiously. 

‘Ugh, they’ve just called to tell me they’re at the door,’ Patsy said, biting at a cuticle as she paced beside the rack of bicycles for sale. ‘I’m stressed out now. Wish they would have given me more than a ten minute warning.’ 

‘Do you live far?’ 

‘Just a few streets away. I’d call for an Uber, but if I start walking now I can get there by the time a car would be here to pick me up.’ 

Delia bit back the urge to wish her luck and get on with the rest of her day, and couldn't believe she was actually entertaining the idea of helping Patsy, but after all Patsy had done for her, Delia reckoned she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she just jetted off now. 

‘Hop on. It’ll be faster than walking,' she said quickly. 

Delia patted the wooden carrier that was over the back wheel. 

‘Are you serious?’ Patsy asked as Delia strapped on her helmet. ‘I couldn’t. You’ve just had an accident. All these groceries and me would be too much weight-'

Delia grasped all their bags and situated them in the basket at the front of her bike. 

‘I’m stronger than I look,’ she replied tersely, wanting to move quickly before she regretted her decision. 

Delia walked her bike to the road and mounted it, looking over to Patsy, who hadn’t budged. 

‘Come on, you want a lift or not?’ 

With a defeated sigh, Patsy obliged. Delia felt the weight shift on the bike as Patsy settled in behind her, ignoring the heat in her cheeks as she felt a pair of hands firmly grasp onto her hips. 

She kicked off and gained speed the further they went, Patsy leaning close and reaching over her, pointing and telling her ‘turn here’, ‘left there!’ 

Soon they turned down a road that looked like a rather old neighborhood, but posh, and Delia needed to keep herself from gawping at the ivy covered brick houses and the corresponding luxury cars parked in each drive. 

‘There, I see the lorry!’ Patsy said, tapping Delia on the shoulder. 

Delia squeezed her brakes and skidded to a halt in front of a similarly beautiful home, which in any other context would look like a typical middle class home, if she didn’t know that it was probably worth millions of pounds given the location. 

‘You own this entire house?’ 

Delia’s question fell on deaf ears as Patsy hopped off the bike, her hands waving at a perturbed looking gentleman in a baseball cap and uniform, scratching the side of his head with a pencil while studying sheets on the clipboard he was holding. Other men milled about, looking around as they smoked fags and carried on a conversation amongst themselves. 

‘I’m here, I’m here!’ Patsy said, running to the man with the clipboard. 

Delia parked her bicycle in the front garden as Patsy opened the door and the men got to work unloading the lorry. She watched as Patsy signed a bunch of papers on the clipboard and the men carried out box after box of Patsy’s things. Delia lost count of how many boxes she saw labeled _Books_. 

Delia took the liberty of walking into Patsy’s home, curious to see what the inside of a house like this looked like. Things were a bit chaotic with the men shuffling in and out of the house and with Patsy frantically directing them to set things either here or there. 

The house was large by Delia’s standards. A narrow staircase to the left, beautiful wooden floors under her feet, a proper living room with an attached dining room to her right with bay windows letting in the afternoon sunlight. The walls were bare, but Delia imagined when Patsy was settled in they would be beautifully decorated with art and other expensive decor. 

Delia wandered into the kitchen, taking a look around. She gave a low whistle, admiring the sight of the back garden through the window over the sink. 

‘Patsy, this place is a palace,’ she called out, opening the pantry, thinking it was as large as her bathroom back at the flat she shared with Valerie. 

‘Sure a palace with mice in the walls,’ Patsy replied, placing a box on the counter labeled _kitchen_. 

She retreated back to the lounge and Delia followed her. 

‘Really though, you own this entire house?’ Delia asked, gesturing wildly with her hands. ‘Like, you don’t just rent one of the rooms upstairs?’ 

Patsy gave a rather shy smile as she grasped her bag of groceries and walked past Delia once more to the kitchen. Again, Delia followed. 

‘I certainly would not have bought a house like this if I had a choice,’ Patsy remarked, setting out her eggs and vegetables. ‘It’s been passed down in my family for generations. It’s only now that it’s come under my charge.’

‘Well!’ Delia replied, making a flustered noise. ‘Gosh that must be _so_ inconvenient! A house like this just falling into your lap!’ 

Patsy gave a smirk and pulled out the aforementioned bottle of wine and two glasses from the box she had brought in a moment ago. ‘Want to help me unpack?’ 

‘You want me to go through all your things? Certainly!’ Delia joked. 

‘We’ll be sticking to any boxes not marked _clothing_ or _bedroom_ , thanks,’ Patsy replied, digging through the box and retrieving a bottle opener. 

She popped open the wine and poured the two of them a glass before walking back to the lounge. Patsy focused on unwrapping the bubble wrap from her television and propping it up on the stand while Delia opened box after box of books, curious to see just what this woman was reading. It was mostly academic books, medical texts and journals. Nothing that helped her to gauge anything of Patsy’s personality other than she was a total brainiac. 

‘Are these going somewhere? Is there a bookshelf in one of those boxes?’ Delia asked. 

‘Those will be going in the office upstairs, but you’re absolutely not trudging all those books up there after what you’ve been through today,’ Patsy replied, her voice muffled slightly as she was bent over the back of the television stand plugging in cables. ‘Just leave those boxes by the stairs and I’ll get to them later.’ 

Delia harrumphed and her eyes landed on another box simply labeled _stuff_. An eyebrow raised, she wondered what it could possibly be. She looked back over to Patsy who was thoroughly occupied with the television, and thought to herself that she probably should leave it. 

But technically… it wasn’t labeled _bedroom_ or _clothing_ like Patsy had asked her to avoid. 

Her curiosity getting the best of her, Delia quickly tore open the box of _stuff_ and looked inside. What she saw sparked a nostalgic awe that she hadn’t felt in years. 

‘Oh my god…’ 

Slowly, she reached in and pulled out a games console that she handled like an ancient relic. 

‘Patsy,’ she said, mystified at the treasured item in her hand. 

‘Hmm?’ Patsy replied, looking over to Delia. 

‘Is this an original super nintendo entertainment system?’ Delia said slowly, her eyes never leaving the hunk of grey and purple plastic that immediately brought forward just about every happy childhood memory in her subconscious. 

Patsy gave a laugh and walked over to Delia, kneeling beside her and looking through the contents of the box. 

‘Think it still works,’ she replied, pulling out an old shoebox. 

‘What’s that?’ 

Patsy popped open the box and Delia gasped. 

‘The games, of course.’ 

Delia took the box in her hands and sorted through the clunky grey cartridges that were in a neat row, all in alphabetical order, she noted to herself amused. 

There were all the popular games; The Legend of Zelda, Donkey Kong Country, Super Metroid, Street Fighter, Super Mario World, and of course… 

‘Mario Kart!’ Delia said, her eyes growing wide. 

‘Want to play?’ Patsy asked with a smile.

Several rounds of Mario Kart commenced, Patsy having retrieved more wine and a bowl of salt and vinegar crisps for them to munch on. They sat on the floor in front of the television like kids and raced one another, Delia’s elbow shoving Patsy more than once when the taller woman was approaching the finish line and she was out of red shells to throw at her in the game. The two laughed like maniacs when someone raced off Rainbow Road and fell into the starry black abyss of space, needing to be brought back via hook and line by a koopa on a cloud. 

Delia thought Patsy was doing it repeatedly just to make her laugh, but Patsy insisted she was just terrible at this round, and promptly drove off the track once more. 

After another round where Delia lost, laying down on the floor at her defeat with a sigh, she turned her head and noticed an untouched box stacked on top of two longer boxes labeled _Music._ ‘What’s in there?’ 

Patsy paused their game and handed Delia the smaller box, tearing it open to reveal records, the collection spanning the decades Delia realized flipping through several of the covers. 

Delia huffed stubbornly to herself. Alright so she really _did_ collect records. ‘You a fan of disco, Patsy?’ Delia asked with a teasing grin. 

Beside her, Patsy was busy tearing open another box, a larger one that was very long. ‘They were my mums,’ Patsy said with a little roll of her eye. ‘ _She_ was the dancing queen. I liked some of the older stuff that belonged to my father. Doo-wop and the like.’ 

Delia was about to ask Patsy about her parents, as it occurred to her that she hadn’t mentioned any family up until now. Any questions left her mind as she watched Patsy pull a guitar case out from the box she had opened. 

Delia watched on as Patsy flicked open several latches and pulled out an electric guitar.

An amp and a chord were pulled from another box, and Patsy plugged everything in and gave it a strum. 

Delia marveled as Patsy held it as naturally as a mother held a child, plucking at the strings and tuning them until the strum of her fingers harmonized splendidly. ‘Gosh, didn’t realize how much I missed this until I picked it up,’ she commented rather sentimentally. 

‘So you play? Like, actually play play?’ Delia asked, rather shocked. 

‘Just about every day since I was 10,’ Patsy smiled. ‘Do you play?’ 

‘Not at all,’ Delia started, though her pride roared in her chest and she so desperately felt the need to do _something_ to impress Patsy for reasons she couldn’t quite articulate as of yet. ‘Except…’ 

‘Except?’

‘Well I mean, when I was a teenager I taught myself to play one thing.’ 

‘What is it? Will you play it for me?’ 

‘Oh, I couldn’t,’ Delia replied, reaching out for the guitar anyway. 

‘No, go on, I’m sure you’re amazing.’

‘I haven’t held a guitar in years,’ Delia replied. 

‘Just like riding a bike,’ Patsy grinned. 

Delia narrowed her eye spitefully at Patsy teasing her, and strummed the guitar to get herself familiar with the feel of it as she meticulously set her fingers into place. ‘You promise not to laugh?’ 

Patsy raised her right hand and crossed her heart with her left. 

Delia focused, the tip of her tongue poking out the side of her mouth as she started, then stopped, then started, then stopped again. ‘Wait,’ she said. 

She tried again, trying not to note how amused Patsy looked as she sipped her wine. 

The more she messed up the more she could feel her face turning red. 

‘Oh, sod it. I’ve obviously forgotten,’ Delia said with a frustrated huff, handing the guitar back to Patsy. 

‘Is this what you were going to play?’ Patsy proceeded to eloquently execute the first several chords to Mr. Brightside by The Killers. 

‘Oh fuck off,’ Delia said, though couldn’t help but smile. 

‘What? It’s a great song. Very pretty intro,’ Patsy replied as she continued to play. ‘Do you know the lyrics?’ 

Delia scoffed. ‘Of course I know the lyrics. It’s my go-to karaoke song.’ 

‘Well?’ 

Delia raised an eyebrow and leaned back slightly. ‘What, you want me to sing?’ 

‘Sure.’ 

‘No!’ 

‘Come on, you can do it,’ Patsy replied, giving a rather charming smile that made Delia suspicious. 

‘Patsy I’m really no good at singing,’ she shook her head. ‘No good.’

Patsy chuckled. ‘You need to say it twice?’

‘It bears repeating.’ 

Patsy’s smile dropped. 

‘What?’

‘It bears repeating,’ she replied distracted, looking up in thought. ‘ _It bears repeating now_ ,’ she sang to herself. 

Delia looked on with a curious eyebrow raised as Patsy scrambled to open another box. 

‘You’ve just made me think of another song,’ she said, cutting open and shuffling through the contents of a small box labeled _Instruments/Music Stuff._ She shuffled the contents of the box and Delia took a peek. There was a recorder that instantly brought back memories of music class from primary school, some maracas, a harmonica, and others that clamoured about until Patsy seemed to find what she was looking for. Patsy tossed a tambourine to Delia before Delia could register what was happening. 

‘What are you…’ she started her eyes wide as she watched Patsy stand.

Patsy closed her eyes and fiddled with a few chords before she found the one she was looking for. Delia didn’t notice the music so much, more noticing how skilled Patsy was with her fingers. 

Patsy opened her eyes and played what sounded like the opening chords to a punk rock song. She began singing. 

_Fell in love with a girl_

_Fell in love once and almost completely_

_She's in love with the world,_

_But sometimes these feelings can be so misleading_

Delia recognized the song. Fell in Love With a Girl by The White Stripes.

With a wide grin, she began to smack the tambourine against her hand in tandem with the beat, her head bobbing and her hair falling in every direction around her shoulders as she shook. Patsy continued on singing with a smile. 

_She turns and says, "Are you alright?"_

_I said I must be fine 'cause my hearts still beating_

_Come and kiss me by the riverside_

_Yeah Bobby said its fine, he don't consider it cheating now._

_Red hair with a curl_

_Mellow roll for the flavor and the eyes for peeping_

_Can't keep away from the girl_

_These two sides of my brain need to have a meeting_

At this point Delia remembered the lyrics herself and chimed in, not wanting Patsy to have all the fun. 

_Can't think of anything to do yeah my left brain knows that all love is fleeting_

All music stopped and Delia and Patsy sang to one another; 

_She's just looking for something new_

_And I said it once before but it bears repeating, now!_

Delia screamed and covered her face, certainly embarrassed but also excited as she couldn’t remember doing something so improvised and fun before in her life. 

‘Delia! Why’d you stop! You were magnificent!’ Patsy exclaimed. 

‘Oh, you’re mad,’ she replied, blushing furiously. ‘Let's do it again.’ 

Patsy gave out a hearty laugh and took out her phone. ‘Right then. Delia and Patsy recording session, take one.’ She set her phone down on another box and pressed record. 

‘You’re recording?’ Delia said, her eyes wide. 

‘I need for you to believe me when I tell you how wonderful your voice is.’ 

‘Patsy!’ Delia cried, hating and loving this at the same time. 

‘Just pretend it’s not there,’ she replied, looking to Delia hopefully. 

‘You have to delete it if it’s absolute shit.’ 

‘I promise,’ Patsy smiled. 

She tucked her bottom lip into her mouth and focused, her finger skillfully plucking the opening tune to Mr. Brightside by The Killers. 

Patsy played the intro once, and looked earnestly at Delia when she didn’t sing. 

‘Go on, you can do it,’ she egged on with a smile. 

Patsy started again and began to sing the intro herself. 

_Coming out of my cage_

_And I've been doing just fine_

Patsy looked at Delia encouragingly, and Delia was filled with the confidence to sing along. 

_Gotta gotta be down_

_Because I want it all_

_It started out with a kiss_

_How did it end up like this?_

_It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss_

Delia closed her eyes and swayed back and forth, her nerves subsiding slightly as she focused on just singing her favorite song. 

_Jealousy, turning saints into the sea_

_Swimming through sick lullabies_

_Choking on your alibis_

She opened her eyes again when she heard Patsy begin to sing along again, swaying in tandem with her as she continued to pluck at those same chords. 

_But it's just the price I pay_

_Destiny is calling me_

_Open up my eager eyes_

_'Cause I'm Mr. Brightside_

They both closed their eyes as they belted out that last lyric, Delia becoming shy again and ducking away once more, effectively ending the song. 

‘Alright, alright, no more!’ 

‘No, Delia! You were doing great!’

‘No, no, no,’ she laughed, bringing the tambourine up to her face to hide her smile, ‘I’ve gone on long enough.’ 

Patsy relented. ‘Alright, we can stop for now. Though you have a really pretty voice.’ 

‘Stop,’ Delia chided, feeling herself grow red in the face. Deep down she knew she was secretly loving the praise but hated herself for it. 

‘No, I mean it,’ Patsy replied, placing her guitar against the wall. ‘You’re good, Delia.’ 

Patsy hit the pause button on her phone and looked over to Delia hopefully. 

‘Can I send this to you? Maybe if you have a listen later you might not feel so shy about singing with me next time.’ 

Delia was certain there wouldn’t be a next time, but she nodded anyway. She bit down on her lip nervously, considering the pros and cons of giving Patsy her number right now. They _did_ work together now after all. It was only a matter of time before they exchanged numbers like she had done with the nurses and Julienne at the clinic to keep in touch about medical emergencies and the like. Sure, she _was_ friends with the others and Patsy wasn’t a friend. She wouldn’t be a friend. This was purely for professional purposes only. 

‘Right, sure,’ Delia finally said. 

Patsy handed Delia her phone and Delia texted the recording to herself. 

‘Think this’ll be the last thing before we can call it a day, hmm?’ Patsy commented, her attention on the sofa that was wrapped in an enormous plastic cover. 

Delia handed Patsy back her phone with a nod, and went to help Patsy pull off the large cover. As Patsy bundled up the cover and stuffed it into an empty box, Delia took a moment to look around the room again, admiring the space. She hadn’t seen the upstairs and was a bit too shy to ask to see it, even though she was curious. Still, she rather liked what she had seen of the house so far. 

‘Patsy, I like your house,’ she remarked. 

‘You shouldn’t. It’s probably haunted,’ Patsy replied with a smirk. 

‘No, I mean, it reminds me of home. The space, these games, the music… even the garden out back. It just makes me nostalgic for all the right reasons,’ she gave a small smile and looked to Patsy. ‘How about you? You said this house has been in your family; did you grow up here?’ 

Patsy nodded slowly. ‘I did. As did my mother, and her mother before her.’ Patsy swirled her wine in her glass before going on. ‘My great grandparents bought this house when it was first built around 1910, if I recall.’

‘Wow,’ Delia remarked, ‘sounds like it’s been passed down through the women, yeah? That’s pretty rare.’ 

Delia looked up, her wide eyes taking in the room around them once more. Oddly, she noted water stains in the ceiling this time and paint that was chipped, curtains that were frayed and bleached from too much sunlight. No wonder Patsy remarked that the house was haunted, it looked like no one had lived here at all for several years. 

‘Uh, yeah. Would you like to get a better look at the garden?’ Patsy asked, seeming eager to change the subject. 

Delia nodded and followed an already retreating Patsy to the kitchen. She stopped for a moment to top off their wine before Patsy opened the back door that led to a rather overgrown but lush garden. More ivy crawled up the walls that separated her property from her neighbors. Near the back gate was a little wooden shed, lots of ceramic pots, some broken, all stacked up in a line. 

‘I’ve been working more out front than back here recently,’ Patsy remarked, looking a little ashamed at the poor state of things. ‘But I’ve managed to clean up the rubbish a little. I’m wondering if it’s worth hiring someone to come and cut the grass or if I should just buy a mower myself.’ 

‘How about a goat?’ Delia teased. 

Patsy gave her a smirk. ‘Feel like a mower needs less upkeep. Do you want to sit?’ 

She gestured towards two folding chairs that looked like they were meant for sitting on the beach rather than in the garden. Delia sat as Patsy made an improvised table that was really an overturned pot and placed it between the two chairs.

‘So what do you think I should do back here?’ Patsy asked conversationally. 

Delia shrugged, swirling her wine as she took a look around and imagined what she would do with the space. 

‘What did you have in mind?’ 

‘Don’t know. Never had a garden of my own before,’ Patsy shrugged, looking to Delia hopelessly. ‘Thought I’d get a nice outdoor settee and maybe a barbecue?’ 

‘How about a vegetable box?’ Delia suggested ‘Some potted herbs? You’ve definitey got space for it.’ 

‘Oh, I haven’t the foggiest on how to do all that,’ Patsy replied bashfully. ‘Been living in student housing and apartments, I mean, flats, up until now. Don’t have much of a green thumb.’ 

‘I can help you with that, if you want,’ Delia added quickly. ‘It’s just, you know, your garden seems perfect for it so…’ Delia trailed off, wondering why she was even offering to help Patsy with anything, let alone grow a garden. 

Patsy smiled and gave a shy nod. ‘Yeah, that’d be nice.’ 

Delia sipped her wine and tried to ignore the flutter she felt in her chest as she watched Patsy relax, settling comfortably into her seat with her long legs out and crossed at the ankle. 

For a few moments, the two merely sat in silence, sipping their wine and taking in the scenery. There was a quiet symphony of everyday activities going on around them. A car or two drove past in the alleyway behind the house, birds chirped in the trees around them, children could be heard playfully shouting, and off in the distance a dog barked. 

What seemed like the first time that day, Delia felt completely content and relaxed. She had forgotten that she had started this day hating Patsy with all her heart. She surprised herself thinking what a pleasant turn of events today had been. 

‘How are you feeling?’ 

‘Hmm?’ Delia asked, focusing once again on Patsy. 

‘Since this morning, I mean. Still sore?’ 

‘Oh! Well, I think I’m OK. The walking around earlier really helped keep me from getting too stiff,’ Delia replied with a shy smile, accentuating her statement by rubbing the back of her neck. 

Patsy seemed satisfied with that answer, leaning back in her chair and taking a sip of her wine with a small smile. ‘Good. I’m happy to know you’re alright and that little accident didn’t ruin your day.’ 

‘No, not at all,’ Delia replied. 

Patsy swirled her wine in her glass before she remarked, ‘You know, despite what happened, I’m kind of glad we ran into one another this morning.’ 

‘Oh?’ 

Patsy nodded. ‘It’s just, I don’t know, last week when I came on at the clinic, for some reason I couldn’t help but think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot.’ 

With a sinking feeling in her chest, Delia gave a cough and took another sip of her wine. Oh yes, that. 

‘I might have tried to talk with you once or twice but you seemed busy. Couldn’t help but think I had done or said something wrong to offend you and… Oh, I don’t know. I think I was just paranoid you’d been avoiding me.’ 

Patsy nervously prattled on when Delia simply looked at her hands in her lap grasping onto her glass. 

‘I really dislike talking about my past and… I don’t know what Phyllis or Julienne might have said about me before I started last Monday. I know there are names of schools on my resume that might give people the impression that... ‘

‘That?’ Delia gently pried from behind her glass of wine, listening very carefully. 

‘That I’m not approachable, I suppose. Feel like when people find out about my background they see me as some kind of _other_ and I’m just… not.’ 

‘Yes, well…’ Delia interrupted, her tone sharp. ‘Very few of us have the means to do things like go to illustrious boarding schools and universities.’ _Some of us actually had to earn our way in_ , Delia thought bitterly. 

Patsy looked at Delia with a raised eyebrow, ‘Gosh… did… I know Phyllis gave everyone a rundown of my CV but I didn't think she went far back enough to mention what schools I attended before Uni.’ 

‘She didn’t, I-’ Delia began, looking away before gathering her courage to confront Patsy. Delia turned her body towards Patsy as she took a deep breath and looked the woman in the eye. ‘Patsy, you really don’t remember me, do you?’ 

Patsy remained stone faced, looking at Delia long and hard. 

Delia gave a sigh, and gulped down the rest of her wine.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, poor Delia. Is Patsy really as terrible as she remembers or is she her new best friend? Let the conflicting feelings begin!
> 
> I'm home sick from work and actually have the spare time to add a doodle. Woo!


	5. The Girl with the Thorn in Her Side.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delia _hated_ Patience Mount, she decided, sniffing as she harshly wiped her tears into her pillow. Just absolutely hated her, and she couldn't wait for the day in which that _stupid girl_ left the school and was out of her life for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 2004. 
> 
> Amy Winehouse's debut album had only been out for a matter of weeks.  
> Anchorman and Napoleon Dynamite premier and become some of the most quotable movies of a generation.  
> Janet Jackson unwillingly showed some side boob to the world.  
> The silicone yellow Live-Strong wristband became a prominent adornment on millions of wrists.  
> Myspace was 1 year old. 
> 
> Delia and Patsy are 14 and 17 years old, respectively. This is how they meet.

'Smile, sweetheart!' 

14 year old Delia stood up straight and grinned, feeling quite proud in her new school uniform. She placed her hand on her hip and pulled back the side of her mauve blazer to show off the pleated skirt underneath and matching jumper, the golden school crest stitched just above her left breast shining in the light. 

Delia’s father brought the small disposable camera up to his eye and took a large step back. Then another. 

‘Ed, where you going? Any further back and you’ll be in the carpark,’ Delia’s mother quipped with a subtle roll of her eyes. 

‘Just trying to get the school in the background, dear,’ he replied, taking another large step back. ‘It’s a biggun, innit?’ 

Enid tisked and turned her attention to her daughter. 

'Oh, Delia dear, let me fix your little hat,' Enid fretted, reaching for the straw boater perched on Delia's head. 

'Mam, no, I got it!' Delia cried, ducking away from her overbearing mother. Delia was glad that the school grounds were swarmed with other students arriving, their parents also giving them heartfelt goodbyes as they prepared to part for another term. She hoped no one would notice her parents's embarrassing behavior. 

‘Ed!’ Enid shouted as if Ed were a mile away. ‘Get one with me and our babies!’ 

Enid grasped Delia's brother Robert by the scruff of his collar before pulling the two teens into a rather crushing hug. 

Ed used his thumb to wind the disposable camera and brought it up to his eye again. 

'Make sure you get the school in the background, dear!' Enid demanded through her smile. 

‘That’s what I was trying to do, Enid!’ 

‘Da just take the picture would ya?’ Robert whined. 

'Say cheese!' Ed said, and gave the little camera a click before winding it again. 

'Oh look at you in your little uniform,' Enid gushed, looking on the verge of tears, as she held Delia at arms length. 'Goodness cariad you're so grown up!'

'You look like you're going to barbershop quartet school.'

Delia made sure her parents were distracted before giving her brother an elbow to the ribs. 

‘Ow!’ he groaned, glaring at his older sister. 

'Stop acting like a prat,' she hissed.

'Me? You think I'm bad, you're surrounded by them. Spoiled little…'

'Robert!' Ed growled warningly. Delia's brother stuck his hands in his pockets and sulked. 

'Surprised they even had one in your size,' Robert said under his breath, referring to Delia's attire. 

Delia’s nostrils flared at the comment, a shameful sting in her chest recalling that she hadn’t been able to get the blazer to button in the front because her belly wouldn’t allow it. 

She did her best to not let her brother poking at her weight get the better of her. Not today. 

'Yes, well don't forget that it's _me_ wearing this uniform and not you,' Delia said, straightening her hat. 

'Big deal. Anyone with money can get into a school like this,' Robert replied with a shrug, though Delia could tell his pride was hurt and she felt no remorse at all if he felt bad. 

'Yes well we haven't got any of that do we?' Delia said quietly so her parents wouldn't hear. 'I had to use my brain. Think you could do the same?' she challenged. 

Robert crossed his arms and sniffed. 

'Enid, dear, the leaflet says we're to assemble in the cafeteria for tea and a meeting with the teachers,' Ed remarked, holding the bit of paper close to his face as he squinted in the sunlight. 

'Alright, alright. One more picture,' Enid replied, holding the camera out to her son. 'Robert, will you take one of your father and I with Delia?' 

The 13 year old rolled his eyes and took the camera.

'You take a good one boy, we've only got six photos left in that thing and I'll not be running all the way to the chemist to buy a new one!' Ed cleared his throat and straightened his tie after his little outburst, bristling his mustache as Enid gave him a comforting pat on the back. 

Robert gave an exaggerated sigh as he wound the camera once more with a series of short, loud clicks, and brought it to his eye. 

'Ready?' 

Behind Robert, an enormous SUV slowly rolled by, black with tinted windows. While many families had shown up in their BMW's and Audi's, this did not seem out of the ordinary, but Delia's eyes followed the SUV until it stopped at the drop-off point at the end of the lane that led to the main hall. A man in a suit and tie came around and opened the door, and Delia watched as a girl emerged. She was a ginger, with her hair around her shoulders. She wore a hooded jumper and jeans with a hole in the knee, carrying a rucksack on one shoulder and headphones around her neck. She looked like she had been traveling for some time and was worn out. 

A whistle and the snapping of fingers caught Delia's attention. 

'Oi, Deels, over here,' Robert said, camera still at the ready. 

Delia focused and smiled for the picture with her parents. 

'Cheese!' 

The camera clicked, and Delia laughed and grinned as her dad gave her an extra hard squeeze. 

‘Da!’ she shouted, and playfully pushed him away. 

'Ed you're going to crease her blazer, now, and I've just given it a good ironing,' Enid fussed. 

'Aw I'm just so proud of our little girl!' Ed gushed, giving Delia another hug. 

He finally let go a moment later after some chiding from Enid, and Delia’s eyes found the girl once more as the SUV she arrived in drove off. Delia’s heart jumped in her throat as she locked eyes with the girl, ignoring her mother's fussing to straighten out her hat and blazer. 

Delia noticed that the girl seemed to be plagued with a terrible case of acne over her cheeks and chin, her face blotchy and red. Spots and scruffy attire aside, Delia thought to herself for a brief moment that the girl could have been pretty if it hadn’t been for the scowl cast in her direction, the girl glaring hard at Delia. It made Delia gulp, hoping that she wouldn’t cross paths with that one anytime soon. 

* * *

Several weeks passed, and Delia had never felt more like she was in the military than at this school. Her schedule was strictly regimented.

0700: Up and dressed and elbowing her way through the bathroom for a bit of space at the mirror to wash her face and brush her teeth. 

0730: In the dining hall for breakfast. More elbowing her way through the line to grab a bit of porridge and juice, and she would usually get the banana with the least amount of bruises if she gave a sweet smile to the old Irish woman doling out the fruit. 

0800 -1100: Class time. Maths and science and history and English literature. The teachers were more fast paced and intense than Delia had been used to back in Wales, but with this being the year she was to take her GCSEs, she wasn't at all surprised by the heavy workload. She figured the A-level students two years ahead of her we're getting the same, if not more. 

1100: Lunchtime. More elbowing and clamoring to get a sandwich and soup or chicken and vegetables. After the first day, she was dismayed to find no fizzy drinks. Absolutely _none_ . Crisps? Nope. Sweets? One ginger biscuit per person per meal. _One_. How was she going to survive like this?!

1200-1400: More classes. Arts and languages and more English literature, and just when that after-lunch lull started to kick in where all one really wanted was a nap, it was time for PE. 

It was more of the regimented routine that filled the rest of the day. Delia and her classmates would line up outside in loose fitting t-shirts and shorts, follow along with the PE teacher to stretch before they were to run laps around the pitch or split into teams for football or rugby. At least if it was raining they could play volleyball in the gymnasium.

At first Delia dreaded this, along with many of her fellow classmates. She had never been forced to run around so much in her life and she would break out into a sweat just _thinking_ about how all the more fit students would shake their head in disappointment or sneer at her for being the least fit among them, always the one to come in last during a relay race around the track. She would stand with the other ‘bigger’ students, mortified that she would be picked last for the days team activity. 

Nonetheless, after the first few weeks she came to actually enjoy it. PE had become something to break up the monotony of sitting hunched over a desk all day studying. This was the first time in her life she was being challenged physically along with academically and her competitive nature had her pushing her limits. She liked that she could make herself go a little further each day.

1700: Suppertime. The elbowing in line was much worse as everyone had worked up an appetite from PE, but, Delia noted to herself with an eyeroll, at least they allowed for them to switch it up by offering them Lucozade. 

1800: Freestudy. Many of the A-level students crammed into study groups at every available table in the library, leaving the younger students to huddle together to work on their essays and review notes out in the common areas. 

2100: Lights out, though that didn't stop Delia and her dorm mates from staying up to catch up on their assignments or quietly chat over the latest gossip while sharing contraband snacks from home. 

Over the weeks, Delia came to find what she lacked in athletic abilities she made up for academically. Her study habits had made her many friends who were eager to get a grasp on their ever increasing workload as the term went on, and she was happy to share with everyone all her tips and tricks. Many were most impressed with how she was able to hold three pens at once between her fingers, all a different colour, and switch between them depending on what colour she needed the note to be. 

Her trick with the three pens typically served her well, catching the amused eye of a fellow student or teacher impressed with her clever skills, but on one October afternoon her antics backfired as the one blue pen suddenly burst and oozed all over her hand. 

Delia blinked, her body frozen in place as she was unsure of what to do in that moment. 

‘Delia, what happened?’ a classmate asked in a not so subtle whisper. ‘What’d you go and do that for?’ 

‘What’s going on?’ the teacher at the head of the class turned from writing equations on the board to look at his class. 

Delia felt heat rise in her cheeks as everyone near the front turned to look at her. 

‘Uh, sorry, sir. My pen exploded,’ she stuttered out, raising her ink-covered hand. 

‘Better go and wash up,’ the teacher remarked, nodding towards the classroom door. ‘Off with you then’. 

Delia rushed off to the nearest bathroom and was soon muttering curses under her breath as she scrubbed her hands raw under the harsh cold water from the ancient porcelain sink. She barely noticed another person walk in and head towards the back near the windows. It wasn't until she heard the distinct sound of a lighter flicking and the smell of smoke that she looked up. She could see in the mirror a familiar figure pushing open a stiff window. 

It was that _girl_. The one with the terrible acne that had been dropped off by some goon in a suit. 

And she was _smoking_!

Delia turned the water off and hurriedly wiped her hands on a paper towel before rounding on the girl. She gave her the glare she’d inherited from her mother that usually drained the colour from her brother's face when she caught him doing something naughty. 

It seemed to have no effect on the redhead, however, but Delia pressed on. 

'What do you think you're doing?' Delia asked, standing up as straight as she could. 

The girl leaned casually up against the breezeblock wall and stuck a hand in her blazer pocket. She gracefully blew a line of smoke out the window as she eyed Delia up and down. 

'Hairspray.'

Delia blinked. 'Wha?'

'It'll get the ink off your hands,' the girl replied, her cigarette bobbing up and down between her lips as she spoke. A glimmer of something caught Delia's eye, and upon closer inspection she could see that the girl had a mouth full of braces.

'That's- that’s not- you're not supposed to be doing that!' Delia sputtered out. 

'Doing what?' The girl narrowed her eyes, clearly already annoyed by Delia's presence. 

'Smoking! In here!'

'Oh, shall I smoke in class then?' 

'You shouldn't be smoking at all!'

The girl smirked, looking as if she were getting a kick out of riling Delia up, and it only made Delia more annoyed. 

'What are you going to do pipsqueak, dob me in?' 

Delia huffed, feeling herself become red in the face as she watched this girl take another drag of her cigarette. Most of the kids she had met at this school came from well off families, but here was the first she had met who was actually acting like the entitled prat her brother warned her about! 

To be even more irritating, the girl took a deep, long drag of her cigarette and blew it in Delia's face. 

'There. Now everyone will think you were smoking, too.'

Delia gave an exaggerated cough and waved the smoke out of her face. 'Don't you contaminate me with your cancer sticks!'

'Then bugger off already would you?' she replied with a lazy wave of her hand. 'Least make yourself useful and tell me if the prefect is coming round if you're going to stay.' 

'I'm not your lackey! You shouldn't be smoking these to begin with,' Delia retorted, ignoring her request to go away. 'You know they're terrible for your health!'

There was a dismissive snort. 'You're not my mum.'

''sright, I'm not your mam! If she had any sense she'd have raised you to not behave like such a… a… _bitch_!' Delia replied, feeling a swell of adrenaline surge through her at the use of a swear word. As someone who wasn't inclined to be mean or swear, Delia was feeling a little out of her element, but she was determined to hold firm. 

'Leave her out of this,' the girl glowered, glaring warningly. 

'You're the one who brought her up!'

'Now I'm telling ya to leave it!' 

'Why, 'cause I'm right?'

'No! Because it's none of your fucking business how she raised me! Now get out!' 

The flat of the girl’s hand made contact with Delia’s chest before she realized what was happening, the force of it sending her backwards towards the door.

‘Don’t push me!’ she cried.

‘I said get out! Go on piss off!’

‘It’s a toilet you don’t get to decide who can be in here!’

The girl grabbed her by the jumper, walking her towards the door, the cigarette between her lips dangling dangerously close to Delia’s face as she tried not to trip over her own feet. 

‘Get off me!’ She smacked at the girl’s arms, dislodging her grip, ducking around her and shoving her from behind.

The girl stumbled, cigarette falling to the floor. ‘You little brat!’ She rounded on Delia, grabbing her once more and pinning her against the sink. ‘Why won’t you just leave me the fuck alone?!’

‘Because I’m sick of stuck up twats like you thinking the rules don’t apply to them!’ Delia replied, throwing her shoulder into a shove that had the girl reeling back and crashing against a cubicle. 

There was a beat where Delia merely looked at the girl, the two breathing heavily and glaring at one another in some kind of stand off. 

‘Now pick it up and put it out,’ Delia said firmly, not daring to blink. 

‘Fuck you,’ the girl replied incredulously. ‘You don’t tell me what to do.’

'Well maybe someone ought to! Seems your parents certainly never did!’

'Shut up! You don't know _anything_!' the girl cried, nostrils flaring. 

‘Least I know enough to get into this school with my smarts and not just _dumped_ here-’

Delia could see the flash of red behind the girls eyes and had the reflexes to anticipate her next move. She could feel a spike of adrenaline pulse through her veins as she ducked, effectively avoiding the slap across the face that she knew would have stung if the girl had been a fraction of a second quicker. The girl stumbled and fell forward, grasping onto the sink Delia had just been leaning against as Delia steadied herself opposite against the cubicle door. 

The girl rounded on Delia, right arm pulled back as she pushed herself off the sink. Delia caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror for a split second and wondered if this was the last she would see of herself without a black eye. 

The sound of the door creaking open had the two girls frozen in place. 

Blinking to her senses, the girl jumped back, lunging for the dropped cigarette and disappearing into a cubicle, toilet flushing as the bathroom door opened.

The figure of another girl in uniform appeared. Delia recognized her as one of the older students. 

She was wearing a prefect badge. 

'What's going on in here?' she asked, looking between the two with a curious eyebrow raised. 

Both girls remained silent, not daring to make a sound or move as the prefect took a sniff. 

'Do I smell smoke?'

* * *

The subsequent meeting with the headmistress wasn’t as terrifying as Delia thought it would be. She was not chucked out and left in the streets like she had feared she would be, and even though she was meant to spend every weekend for an entire month in the kitchens helping the staff peel potatoes and carrots and washing up as comeuppance, she was glad to know that the little stint in the toilets did not lead to her expulsion. Even though for a moment it seemed like it would have

'Skipping class, underage drug use, smoking on the premises, and from what I'm told by the prefect, aggravated assault?' Delia recalled the headmistress ticking off, looking between her and the girl, whose name she had learned was Patience Mount, over the top of the thin reading glasses perched on the tip of her nose. 

Delia was trembling where she sat while Patsy slouched next to her, crossing her arms across her chest and rolling her eyes. 

‘Well, Ms. Busby? Did Ms. Mount here assault you?’ 

Delia's eyebrows knitted together, thinking to herself that while yes, Patsy had put her hands on her and shoved her, Delia had done the same, hadn’t she. 

'Just tell her the bloody truth. Doesn't matter what happens to me,' Patience sighed blithely, placing her chin in her hand. She looked as if being there was a complete waste of her time. 

As Delia now sat that Sunday afternoon on a three legged stool peeling potatoes over an industrial sized bin, she couldn’t help but wonder what the blonde had meant by that. 

‘ _Doesn’t matter_ ,’ Delia repeated, giving a tisk and shaking her head. ‘Probably meant she could get away with murder, is what. No consequences. Nothing to lose,’ Delia continued on mumbling to herself as her anger grew at the injustice of it all. 

Delia bristled, irritated at how much the incident and the entitled attitude of Patsy ruffled her feathers. She shook her head, willing away any thoughts of that girl, quite miffed that she was taking up more and more space in her head as she almost peeled the potato in her hands down to a nub. 

The month had passed without any further incident, predominantly because Patsy was tasked with a different punishment, or so Delia had been told. She wouldn’t be surprised if she had gotten off scot free with a phone call from her father or whomever was paying her tuition and donating enough money to build an entirely new wing of the school. 

That night as Delia lay her head down to sleep, she tried with all her might to put the incident behind her. It was done and over with, her detention. She could move on with her life and get back to her studies. 

Or so she thought. 

The next afternoon as she changed into her shirt and shorts for PE, she opened her locker to find her trainers and saw that the space they usually occupied was mysteriously empty. She emptied out her locker, dumped out her bag, thought long and hard to recall if she had removed them from said locker at some point and worn them around? Carried them back to her dorm? No one around her had seen them, nor an extra pair for her to borrow. She finally gave up and marched out onto the muddy pitch barefooted, her arms crossed over her chest as she stood among her classmates as they limbered up for that day's round of football. 

Delia wasn’t much in the mood for stretching, so she stood there while the others bent forward in tandem to touch their toes. She turned her head and noticed that out in the distance, among the trees that bordered the property line was a familiar looking redhead staring right back at her. 

And she was smoking a bloody cigarette. 

Instantly, Delia had a hunch just who might have taken her trainers. Later when she returned to her room, there they were, looking to have been tossed carelessly and covering her pillow with dirt and grass. The sight of it made her seethe. 

There were more incidents after that that were random and sporadic throughout the autumn and into winter that kept Delia stressed and on edge until she went home for Christmas break. 

Fake spider in her orange juice was one of the first ones after the missing trainers. She had been so startled she spilled the juice all down her front and had to spend the morning in a moist jumper and skirt. She never left a cup unattended after that. 

Another incident she was sure was Patsy but couldn’t prove was an envelope suddenly appearing on her bed. Thinking it was a letter from home, Delia excitedly ripped it open only to find that it was full of glitter, the frilly little bits flying everywhere and getting all over her uniform and bed and carpet. Her dorm mates were none too pleased as Delia remained up into the night using the community vacuum to clean the offending sparkles as best she could. 

There was another where she returned from an overnight trip with her classmates to find every text book she owned had been rubber banded together. Something she, naturally, did not realize until about 5 minutes before lessons began for the day. There must have been hundreds of rubber bands used for this elaborate prank, and Delia earned the unwanted attention from many of her teachers as she slowly worked them off during classes just so she could open the damn bloody books and follow along with that days lesson!

Delia began to have trouble sleeping. Delia knew she was the target of these seemingly harmless pranks because the girl wanted to get a rise out of her… for what? Getting her in trouble once? For actually fighting back? Delia wanted to get her back but then that would be stooping to her level, giving her the satisfaction of knowing that she had gotten to Delia. She reckoned that if she continued to ignore Patsy then the girl would get bored and leave her be. She didn’t have much faith in that idea after Delia went to open her locker for PE one Friday afternoon to find an enormous toy lizard baring its pointy teeth at her. The sight of it had her screaming and slamming her locker shut, thinking it was real as she ran and cowered in a corner of the room while her classmates laughed and tried to convince her it was just a toy. 

The last straw was the week before Christmas break. Delia was so looking forward to going home and being away from this school that she thought she would have loved if it weren't for this one person. She and several of her friends and classmates spent a snowy evening in the library, finishing up all last minute projects and assignments before they were to head off in different directions back home for the holidays. Delia had set up a cozy little nook in her favorite spot, and was returning to said spot with her nose buried in a book. She plunked down in her chair without realizing something had been placed there until there was a disturbingly loud _‘POP!’_ that echoed throughout the quiet library. Delia could feel a hot blush crawl up her neck and into her cheeks as all eyes suddenly turned to her.

She immediately leapt from her chair and looked down to see someone had placed a bag of crisps there for her to sit on. 

‘Oi, Deels, if you’re gonna pop off at least do it in the toilets!’ 

She snatched the offending bag of crisps and angrily threw it at the giggling commenter, the crisps flying out every which way. 

Unable to take the onlookers, Delia hurriedly collected her things and kept her composure long enough to make it back to her dorm room, where she promptly fell into bed and cried into her pillows, unable to take it anymore. 

She _hated_ Patience Mount, she decided, sniffing as she harshly wiped her tears into her pillow. Just absolutely hated her, and she couldn't wait for the day in which that _stupid girl_ left the school and was out of her life for good. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is fairing well in these trying times. Given our respective governments, this could last weeks or months. Hopefully if you're stuck inside or working from home, the content here is giving you some solace from the social distancing. Stay strong, friends.


	6. Ask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shyness is nice, and  
> Shyness can stop you  
> From doing all the things in life  
> You'd like to

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, what a fucking year March was, huh? Hope this update brings you a little variety in your quarantine routine.

_ ‘You’re recording?’  _

_ ‘I need for you to believe me when I tell you how wonderful your voice is.’  _

_ ‘Patsy!’ _

Delia held her phone in her hand while she played back the recording for the first time, earpods snugly nestled in her ears to prevent anyone else from listening. It was strange to hear her own voice. Almost wanted to turn it off and forget it had ever happened. The only reason she was listening to it now was because a burning curiosity  to know  how it sounded had crept into the forefront of her mind when she arrived at the clinic that Monday morning. The typical office small talk with the nurses had ensued. A chorus of ‘How was your weekend? What did you get up to?’ from everyone as they walked in while Delia only wanted to make a bloody cup of tea and hide in her office. She avoided being too specific about what had happened just the day before, but that didn’t stop her brain from recalling all the events that had transpired between her and the new Dr. Mount. When she had safely returned to her office with her tea, she took out her phone and saw there was still one unread message from a number she hadn’t saved yet. She knew it was Patsy’s and she knew what the one message contained. A knock on the door from Lucille alerting her that patients were arriving made her push the desire to listen until the end of the day when they had long said goodbye to the last patient. 

_ ‘Alright, alright, no more!’  _

_ ‘No, Delia! You were doing great!’ _

_ ‘No, no, no, I’ve gone on long enough.’  _

_ ‘Alright, we can stop for now. Though you have a really pretty voice.’  _

Delia couldn’t help but crack a small smile. 

_ ‘Stop.’ _

_ ‘No, I mean it. You’re good, Delia.’  _

The recording stopped. She pressed play again. 

_ ‘You’re recording?’  _

_ ‘I need for you to believe me when I tell you how wonderful your voice is.’  _

Delia paused the recording and bit her lip, feeling shy but also unable to contain the surge of emotion that swelled in her chest from Patsy’s words of encouragement. Delia really  _ did _ like to sing, but always felt so shy about it, never really doing it outside of the shower or by herself in the car. She felt like Patsy lifted her up. Broke her out of her shell. 

The bitter thought that Patsy was just doing it to make up for past behavior crossed her mind. But she reminded herself that was wrong. 

Delia kept forgetting that Patsy didn’t know just  _ who _ she was before she’d had to go and tell the tales of their time in school together, and all the mental torment Patsy had put her through after their scuffle in the girls toilet. This recording was Patsy before that revelation. This recording was Patsy being her genuine self. 

Was this person the real Patsy? Where was she when she was a teenager? 

A knock at the door caught Delia’s attention, and she saw Valerie looking at her through the window.

Her mood instantly soured. 

‘Got a minute?’ Valerie asked as she poked her head through. 

‘Course I do. Needed to talk to you anyway,’ Delia swiveled around in her chair and pointed to the bookcase behind her desk.  _ ‘Someone’s _ been through my office placing my Mulder and Scully action figures in precarious and inappropriate positions.'

Her eyes narrowed spitefully at the two plastic figures standing beneath a stuffed little green alien doll Delia had won at a fair some time ago. While she usually kept her action figures separate, she came into her office this morning to find Scully's hand on Mulder's bum and the sight of it enraged her. Not only because someone has been touching her things but Mulder and Scully were just friends, damn it! 

'I know very well it’s you, Val,' Delia went on. ‘I can’t prove it but I-’

Delia stopped talking as she felt a pair of hands on the back of her chair swivel her around to the sight of four nurses standing over her, looking aggrieved. 

‘What’s this? What’s going on?’ she asked, her eyes darting back and forth between the women. 

'We've just caught wind of a little information that we wanted to discuss with you,' Trixie began, crossing her arms over her chest. 

'Oh?' Delia asked, raising a curious eyebrow. 

'Yes. Seems Dr. Mount has given her notice to Julienne.' Lucille explained. 

'What?!' Delia's eyes widened as she felt her heart sink into her stomach. Patsy was quitting?!

'I overheard Julienne discussing it with Phyllis in the break room earlier,' Barbara said proudly. 'She said Dr. Mount doesn't think she's a good fit here.'

'Oh, and then you just had to go on and tell  _ everybody  _ hmm?' Delia chastised. Bloody nurses and their gossip!

'Julienne said Patsy seemed like she didn't feel particularly welcome here,' Barbara went on, hands on her hips. 

Delia sank slightly in her chair as the four nurses seemed to hover closer, glaring. 

'We began to wonder why, seeing as everyone has become rather keen on her,' Trixie said. 

'Everyone except you,' Valerie added, looking at Delia disapprovingly. 

'Ok, hang on-' Delia put up her hands defensively. 

'We think she wants to go because you've been snubbing her  all last week,' Lucille said. 

'No, I haven't-'

'She probably thinks  _ none _ of us want her here but that's not true, Delia!' Barbara added. 

'You  _ know _ that's not true!' Delia exclaimed, feeling smaller and smaller under their glares. 'And what does it matter if I'm not… keen on her anyway?' 

'It matters because  _ you're _ her counterpart here, Delia. Not us!' Barbara continued, a chorus of nods and agreeing grunts and hums from the others followed. 'She needs a peer here that's on her level to get along with. You know that!' 

Delia harrumphed stubbornly and slouched even more in her chair. 

'I'm still confused as to  _ why _ you've been suspicious of her from the start. We can see you've been avoiding her too, ever since she walked through the door!' Lucille exclaimed. 

'Yeah  _ and _ you've done nothing but complain about her back at the flat!' 

'Valerie!’ Delia glared at the woman and spoke through gritted teeth, ‘The point of us sharing a flat was under the condition that you don't discuss my personal life at work!' 

'Pff, I didn't sign any contract,' Valerie shrugged dismissively. 

'Yes! Yes you did!’ Delia bashed her palms against her desk. ‘I specifically had it put in the bloody lease!' 

‘Regardless, Delia, you're a professional and you should behave as such! Whatever you feel towards Patsy being here well… just get over it!' Trixie demanded. 

'Yeah! We need her, Delia!' Barbara added. 

'Look, it's… more complicated than that,' Delia said with a sigh. These bloody women were starting to wear her down. 

'Oh?' 

'Oh, don't tell me you were lovers,' Trixie stated, her mouth slowly breaking out onto a wide grin. 

'Trixie, no!' Delia pleaded. 

'Well that would explain a lot!' Lucille exclaimed, her eyebrows raised. 

'No! We weren't bloody - ugh! Just no!' 

‘What’s the opposite of lovers?’ Barbara asked.

‘Haters?’ Lucille shrugged. 

‘Well guess what Delia,’ Valerie interjected. ‘Haters gonna hate! You gotta brush it off!’

‘Look, I don't care what kind of relationship you may have had with her, the least you can do for us as your friends is to have a professional one with her now!' Lucille added, 'For our sake, and for your sanity's sake!' 

'Yeah Deels you have to admit it's nice having her here,’ Valerie interjected. 

Delia gave a sigh, unable to protest. 

'Please Delia?' Barbara pleaded, clasping her hands together and  pouting.

'No  _ please _ about it! You'll get off your bum right now and go talk with her,' Trixie demanded. 

'Why can't  _ you _ do it?' Delia asked the saucy blonde. 

'It has to come from you!' Trixie replied. 'You're the one that's making her feel like she can't be here. You've got to be the one to convince her to stay!' 

The four pairs of eyes boring into her  was making Delia squirm in her chair. Never before had she needed to be peer-pressured into being nice to someone, and yet here she was. 

'Alright.  _ Fine _ ,' she relented through gritted teeth. 

'Good. I think she's in her office,' Trixie said, nodding towards the door. 

'Better move quickly before she begins to pack anything,' Barbara added. 

'What? Now?!'

'No time like the present!' Valerie exclaimed. 

Before she could protest, Valerie grasped onto the back of Delia's chair and pulled her out from behind her desk. 

'Ah!' Delia cried, her body going stiff as she was rolled right out of her office and into the empty hallway. 'I can walk, you know!' 

Her cries went ignored as several pairs of hands shoved her, and Delia rolled down the hallway, her chair twirling around once to the sight of the four upset nurses standing there outside her office with their arms crossed or hands on their hips. 

She rolled to a stop directly in front of Patsy's office door, and she could only silently seethe under the unforgiving glares of her friends and co-workers who were watching every move. 

With all the dignity she could muster, she rose from her chair and dusted herself off, making a show of straightening her white doctor's coat. 

_ ‘Quit stalling _ !’ Trixie whisper shouted. 

Delia gave her a look  she hoped conveyed she had had enough of this nonsense. She turned to Patsy’s door, peeking through the window to see that the woman was sitting at her desk, her back to Delia as she faced the window with something in her hands. She seemed engrossed in whatever she was looking at, so Delia took one last second to breathe before she gently knocked on the door. 

* * *

Patsy had felt anxious all day, working painstakingly to avoid Delia after what she had revealed the day before. 

She had felt terrible after Delia had explained everything, her memories coming to the forefront of her mind when Delia brought up the name of that bloody boarding school. She had hated being there from the moment she arrived and did everything in her power to block out that entire year. It seemed it worked too well. 

Patsy tried to apologize, though no matter what she could think to say, she didn’t feel it would ever be enough. Delia had said it was alright, and left, stating that what was in the past was in the past, but Patsy could clearly tell her bullying back then affected her to this day some 15 years later. 

She barely slept that night, her mind plagued with the memories of her time in school, more importantly the series of events that led her there to begin with. It was a period in her life she would rather not ever think of ever again and yet the memories slowly crept back in, preventing her from getting any rest at all. 

During her sleepless night, she had a good long think on her situation there at the clinic. After everything she had put Delia through it didn't seem very fair to her to remain on as her counterpart, no matter how badly they needed the help. 

She had told Julienne that morning that she would see out the week. Longer if she really needed the help, but made some excuse that she otherwise wasn't a good fit for the clinic. She hated disappointing Julienne after she had been so gracious to her and welcoming, but she couldn't bear to keep working alongside Delia after knowing what kind of trauma she had put the poor woman through for no good reason all those years ago. 

Patsy wanted to kick herself for her behavior yesterday too, not knowing just why she’d felt she needed to occupy Delia's day  the way  she had. She should have just patched her up and  gotten on with her day. 

Deep down though, she knew. She knew she fancied Delia and liked the attention. She acted silly, wanting to make her smile, make her laugh. Patsy herself had to admit that in the two weeks she had been back in London she was lonely. Coming home day after day to an empty and dark house with no one to talk to was starting to wear her down. When she was in school she had her research and projects to keep her occupied, but now she felt like she had nothing but work at the clinic and then work on the house. Patsy had  been delighted to run  into Delia the day before. She’d felt the happiest she had been in a long time just having  _ someone _ to spend the day with, to talk to and share things with. A day like yesterday under any other circumstance, out in the sun eating good food with good company, well, would have been grand. Though now there was a dark cloud hovering over that day and it was entirely Patsy's fault. 

She couldn't stay here. She just couldn't. 

Patsy remained in her office that afternoon, her tired eyes reviewing patient files over a pair of thin reading glasses. She hoped her work would keep her occupied long enough to be the last to leave. She didn't really feel like interacting with anyone so long as she could help it. 

It was well past 5 o'clock when her phone chimed. The name that appeared made her perk up immediately. 

_ Sweet-Ness _ . 

It was the ridiculous pet name her American friend Vanessa gave herself in Patsy's phone when they first met. Patsy opened her phone and read the message. 

**Donut sticks are back, baby!**

She couldn't help but smirk at the silly little inside joke, something they started saying to one another when things were looking up. 

_ You'll have to be more specific. You just have a shag? _

**Listen here Austin Powers, you know I don't fuck and tell.**

_ Bullshit. I know just what you get up to in those barracks.  _

**There's a lot of lonely women out here missing their hubbies and boyfriends. I'm doing God's work in this godless place.**

Patsy couldn't argue with that. 

Her phone began to ring and she saw that Vanessa was calling her, which she found rather peculiar. She quickly answered. 

'Everything alright?'

'What the fuck, y'all don't say  _ 'allow 'allow _ when you answer the phone?'

'Yeah funny that. I thought you lot just answered  _ Yeehaw.' _

'Frankly, I think that would be much more entertaining.'

'Whats up? You never call me… quite honestly I think this is the first time we've actually spoken on the phone?' 

'I've missed your hoity toity accent.'

'Fuck off.'

'Gah, see it just sounds so much more eloquent when you say it.'

Patsy rolled her eyes. 

'Anyways, I've got some news for ya but wanted to check in to see how you're settling back into merry old In-ga-land.'

'I still don't know why it's so hard for you to just say England.' 

'I'm not having that fight with you again. So how is it? How's the house? You getting on ok?' 

'I… yeah,’ Patsy sighed, her mind suddenly flashing through the last 24 hours. She felt her heart sink into her stomach, a wave of shame  rushing over her just thinking about having to confront her terrible teenage behavior. It was a lot to process and she just couldn’t articulate everything she was feeling right then and there. ‘Yeah. I'm ok. I will be.'

'Yeah? You sure?'

'Yeah, I mean, I have… so much I want to tell you but I just can't right now. I'm still at work. I'll be alright though.'

'Oh shit I'm sorry, it's like 9pm here. I forgot about the time difference.' 

'It's alright.' 

‘You know you can call me anytime if there's anything going on…'

'I know,’ Patsy swiveled in her chair and waved her hand dismissively. ‘So what's your news?' 

'Ahh, yes. Donut sticks are mutha fuckin back, baby. Finally fucking headed home is what.'

'Oh really? Well that's exciting.'

'It gets better. I checked the flight itinerary and it looks like we have a 48 hour layover in Lakenheath.'

Patsy's eyebrows shot up. 

'I checked the map and that's like an hour away from London, right?'

Patsy gave a dark laugh. 'At 2am on a Sunday perhaps.'

'Look bitch, you want me to steal a car and come visit you or what?' 

'Yes!' Patsy was practically vibrating in her chair with excitement at the prospect of seeing her best friend again. 'Vanessa! Of course I want you to come and visit! When is it? When are you coming?' 

'I can't say over the phone, alright, but it's soon. Real soon, ok? I just wanted to ask if you would send me your address when you get a chance alright?' 

'Yeah, of course.'

'Alright. Awesome...  _ Yes _ , I can't wait to see you! Look, I gotta go. My phone's about to die and some girl with a sexy smile has my charger.'

'Uh oh. How many things have you lost to women who've batted their eyelashes at you?' 

'Too many things, fuck. Look send me that address alright? I gotta go but I miss you and I'll reach out soon, ok?'

'I will. I miss you too.'

The call disconnected and Patsy looked at her phone with a goofy smirk on her face, the happy little buzz settling in her chest from having heard from her friend. She reasoned she may be out of a job soon but at least she had one thing to look forward to. 

A meek knocking at her office door broke Patsy of her thoughts. She swiveled around in her chair again to see Delia through the window, trying to give some semblance of a smile and a quick wave. 

Happy little buzz gone.

It seemed she would be unable to escape her past grievances today for even a moment. 

Patsy’s anxiety came back full force, creating an uncomfortable tightening in her chest, but she reckoned she would have to face Delia at some point or another. No time like the present. 

A master at masking her feelings, Patsy took a deep breath and displayed a stoic, calm expression. ‘Come in.’ 

Delia entered and quietly shut the door as Patsy removed her reading glasses. 

‘Oh, I didn’t know you read.’ 

Patsy raised an amused eyebrow at Delia, who realized what she had just said out loud. 

‘I mean, I didn’t know you  _ wore  _ reading glasses,' Delia blinked  rapidly , her cheeks turning pink. 'Sorry, I’m a bit frazzled at the moment.’ 

‘Long day?’ Patsy asked sympathetically. 

‘You could say that,’ she replied, running her fingers through her hair. Patsy tried to push down the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach at the sight. ‘Listen, do you have a moment to talk?’

‘Oh, um, of course. Please.’ Patsy gestured to the seat across from her desk for Delia to sit. Delia remained standing. 

‘Um, Patsy, I just…’ Delia began, and then stopped, her eyes narrowing before she looked over her shoulder. 

Patsy followed her gaze and was startled to see the heads of several nurses glaring back at Delia, all of whom looked rather cross. 

‘Just a second,’ Delia started, and walked to the window. She  harshly shut the blinds, much to the consternation of the women on the other side of the window, and bolted the door shut. 

‘Gossipy little…’ Delia grumbled as she turned back, straightening her doctor's coat. 

She approached Patsy's desk once more, Patsy looking back at her with rapt attention, even more intrigued and waiting patiently to hear what she had to say. 

Silently, Delia pointed to the door, and then to her ear. 

_ They are listening,  _ she mouthed silently. Patsy narrowed her eyes and nodded in understanding. 

Delia pulled her phone out of her pocket and began to frantically type with her thumbs. A moment later, Patsy’s phone chimed on her desk. She  perched her reading glasses back on the bridge of her nose and unlocked her phone. 

**Did you tell Julienne you were leaving?**

Patsy stared at her phone for a moment, a little surprised word had gotten out but not at all surprised that the news seemed to have made it around the nurses and to Delia. She sighed and leaned back in her chair, giving Delia a look that conveyed her answer. 

Delia frowned and typed again. 

**Is it because of me?**

Patsy was taken back by how abrupt the question was, but relieved that they were talking about it, even if the way they were discussing it was unconventional. Paty’s heart melted slightly at the sight of Delia looking back at her with uncertainty across her features. 

Patsy looked down at her phone and began to text back.

_ No. It’s because of me and my past behavior towards you. I think it’s best I go, given the circumstances. _

Delia replied quickly. 

**Please don’t.**

Patsy waited patiently as she watched Delia continue to type. 

**Everyone is enamored with you and they all want you to stay on. I’ve even heard from Julienne how happy the patients are with you and your performance. They want you to stay, and we all really need the help. Please don't go.**

That answer just wasn't sufficient for Patsy to consider changing her mind. Her being there was what affected  _ Delia _ the most. She couldn't care less what the others thought of her if it meant Delia would always have this reminder of how terribly she was treated when she was in school. 

_ Do you want me to stay?  _ Patsy replied. 

Delia licked her lips, looking at the text for a long moment before she slowly began to type. 

**That’s not my decision to make.**

Patsy replied quickly. 

_ Then I’m leaving.  _

Delia huffed, looking back at Patsy incredulously. Patsy stubbornly crossed her arms and joined Delia in a staredown. 

Delia relented after a moment and typed. 

**Fine.**

**I want you to stay.**

**Really.**

Patsy looked back at Delia, her expression relaying that she remained unconvinced. Delia typed on.

**You’re a good doctor and you’ve shown me you're a good person too. We want you to stay on with us at the clinic.**

Patsy shook her head, texting back.

_ Delia, how can I stay when me being here is a constant reminder of how awful I made you feel? I feel terrible for what I did and me staying here is just going to make the both of us miserable.  _

**This obviously isn’t my ideal situation, either. I certainly wasn't happy when you showed up last Monday, but in the short amount of time that's passed I can see that you’re not that person from school anymore.**

_ That person wasn’t even me *back then*. That's the thing. I put you through all that for no reason. I wasn’t in a good place at all then.  _

**Even more reason to stay then, isn’t it? If this is the -real you- then I want this person to stay. I want this person to work beside me.**

Patsy looked at Delia skeptically. Delia continued to text. 

**Patsy, we’re not kids anymore. If we have problems we can talk about these things like the grownups we are.**

Patsy raised an eyebrow and Delia rolled her eyes. 

**Well, you know what I mean. Texting counts too.**

Patsy finally cracked a smile and shook her head, unable to believe that this conversation was happening at all. 

_ I don't know if this makes a difference now, but I'm sorry. I truly am.  _

Delia sighed and slowly texted back. 

**It does. It makes a difference. Thank you.**

The two shared a look, a small smile. Some semblance that they can begin to move on from this and have, at the very least, a cordial working relationship. Patsy gave Delia a long look over, working to piece together the 14 year old she had once bullied from the grown woman that stood in front of her now. Delia tilted her head and looked back at her inquiringly. 

_ I truly didn't recognize you. You've changed a lot.  _

Delia tutted and gave a shy smile before texting back.

**I used to be a chunky monkey, I know 🙈**

The two women shared another shy smile, and Delia continued to text. 

**So will you stay? Please?**

Patsy leaned back in her chair once more and removed her reading glasses mulling over the question. There was a scuffling at the door to her office before she could reply. 

‘Do you hear anything?’ Trixie could be heard whispering through the door. 

‘Not if you don’t shut up  _ stop elbowing me _ !’ Valerie replied. 

‘Well I can't hear anything!’ 

‘Are they even talking?’Lucille asked. 

‘Did they die?’

‘They did not die Barbara!’ 

‘What if they’ve killed one another?’

‘Maybe Dr. Mounts office has a secret door and they’ve escaped?’ Lucille suggested. 

Someone gasped, ‘What if they’re kissing?!’

‘Trixie, stop trying to make them lovers! They’re not lovers!’ 

Patsy looked from her office door to Delia who was holding her head in her hands, obviously mortified by the comments from the clinic nurses. Patsy watched as she pulled out her phone and texted once more. 

**I need a drink. You want to join me?**

Patsy nodded, thinking a shot of something would help calm her nerves. She also reckoned that it was a good sign if Delia was the one offering. 

She rose from her desk and opened the door, effectively startling the nurses on the other side so much they nearly toppled over. 

‘Oh, hello,’ she said. ‘Dr. Busby and I were just about to head out for a drink. Would you lot like to join?’ 

‘Wait, what?’ Valerie said, straightening herself out. ‘But aren’t you…. We thought…’ 

‘You’re not quitting?’ Lucille asked. 

'Quitting? Whoever gave you that idea?’ 

Everyone looked at Barbara, the woman suddenly turning red under everyone's glares. 

‘Happy now?’ Delia asked the group, crossing her arms. ‘She’s here to stay.’ 

‘So how about that drink? I’ll buy the first round,' Patsy offered. 

‘Oh well in that case,’ Barbara shrugged. 

‘I know a place!’ Valerie piped up happily, raising her hand. 

‘Val, we don’t always have to go to your aunt’s pub!’ Trixie exclaimed. 

‘But I like my aunt's pub!’ 

The four nurses wandered off to collect their belongings and change out of their scrubs as Patsy took off her white doctor's coat and hung it up on the rack next to her door. She looked at Delia expectantly and gestured towards the door. ‘Shall we?’

‘Um, Yeah,’ Delia nodded, looking uncertain. 

Before she could exit the office, she stopped and turned towards Patsy, her expression contemplative. 

Patsy remained silent as she waited for Delia to say something. 

‘Are… are we ok?’

Patsy looked at the woman in front of her with a small smile. She tried desperately not to notice how close they were standing together, or how much she enjoyed the smell of Delia's flowery shampoo, or just how damn pretty those big blue eyes were. All the anxiety that had a tight hold on Patsy's chest since the evening before seemed to lessen in that moment as Delia looked back up at her with uncertainty in her eyes. While Patsy knew, after all this, there was little chance of them ever being more than cordial acquaintances at work, she allowed herself this one moment to just enjoy being so close to Delia. 

While she would be forever resentful towards her younger self for ever making this woman cry, Patsy was committed to only ever making her smile from this day forward. 

‘Delia, when it comes to you and I, I feel OK. Do you?’ she asked softly. 

‘I think I do…' Delia nodded, her cheeks turning a slight shade of pink. 'I think I’m there… or can be.’ 

‘Ok.’

‘Ok.’ 

Patsy followed Delia out of her office, and shut the door behind her. 


	7. These Things Take Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But I can't believe that you'd ever care   
> And so, you will never care   
> But these things take time   
> And I know that I'm   
> The most inept   
> That ever stepped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday. Have a present.

The days following Patsy's apology, Delia still felt sensitive about… well, everything. Their little chat did very little to alleviate her anxiety over the whole situation, her childhood bully coming back onto her life to… to what? Exist? Her mere presence meant the memories of how Patsy had made her feel kept coming back full force . Just having Patsy around made Delia feel like old wounds had been opened. She felt vulnerable and  fragile,  and she didn't like it one bit. After she and the nurses had that drink with Patsy at the pub, Delia didn't quite know how to act around Patsy and it seemed Patsy didn't know how to act around her. She was lucky in the sense that work kept the both of them busy but it seemed whenever she and Patsy did bump into one another it was all awkward with overly nice gestures and salutations. They were just too polite, not genuine. It made Delia feel bad and she knew Patsy still felt bad too. This whole situation was a mess. 

Delia had to push away the thoughts, the lies she was telling herself, that Patsy was only being so nice because it had been revealed that she had bullied her at school.  Because that wasn't the truth. Patsy  _ was _ a nice person. She genuinely seemed to be anyway. Everyone liked her. She even said the person she had been wasn't even  _ her _ back then! What did that even mean?!

A week of this went by, and that Sunday morning Delia found herself drinking a cup of coffee at the tiny kitchen table across from Valerie, who was sitting cross legged in her chair enjoying a bowl of cereal. 

'What’s the thousand yard stare for? Look as if you've been through the wars.' 

Delia shook her head, realizing that she had been lost in her thoughts and had probably been staring unblinking at the  Poplar pet calendar for far too long, looking much too interested in the Chihuahua all dolled up in their easter sweater surrounded by daisies.

‘You know it’s May, right?’

Valerie looked at the calendar and then back at Delia. 

‘Somehow I don’t think the calendar being on the wrong month is what’s bothering you.’

She narrowed her eyes at Valerie and sipped her coffee.

'Never you mind.'

'Seriously though, what is it? You still upset I haven’t taken down the recycling yet?

Delia’s eyes darted to the ever growing pile of paper and plastic next to the refrigerator, compiled of empty boxes that once contained frozen pizza and microwave meals, and other bits and bobs like empty cans of beans and peas and unwanted post that had piled high and seemed to be dangerously on the brink of collapse all over the kitchen floor. 

‘Look I promise I’ll take it out like I said,’ Valerie shrugged as she took another hearty spoonful of what was more sugar than cereal. 

‘Yeah, but… when?’ Delia asked exasperated. 

‘Well I can’t help it that it rains every time the truck comes through. Don’t want it all to get soggy just sitting out there, do I?’ 

‘Valerie… Do you know where you bloody live? It’s  _ always _ raining!’ Delia gave a hopeless sigh and took another sip of her coffee. ‘I don’t really care about it anyway so long as it gets done soon.’ 

‘Then what you got your head up all in the clouds for?’ 

‘Nothing,’ Delia denied quickly, ‘I don’t! Everythings fine!’ 

Delia could feel herself become increasingly defensive about her behaviour, and turning red in the face as a result. 

‘Bullshit. You’ve been a right grump the past few weeks. Are you still pissed about Dr. Mount coming on?’ 

'No,' Delia lied, then looked around inconspicuously. ‘Why? Did she say something about me?’ she asked quietly. 

‘Nah, but like, it’s weird,’ Valerie shrugged, taking another spoonful of her breakfast. ‘Thought you'd be more into her.'

'Why?'

'Well she's right fit  ain’t she?’ Valerie bobbed her spoon up and down between her thumb and forefinger like she was making a fair point. ‘Redhead too and smart as a whip. Thought you'd want to snatch that up.'

'Don't be ridiculous,’ Delia tisked before downing the rest of her coffee. 

'Whys that ridic-'

'First of all  _ no,  _ it's never going to happen,' Delia scoffed, the thought of being romantic or even sexual with Patsy made her stomach flip unpleasantly. 'Second, unlike you I'm a professional and would never date anyone I work with. Not  that you’re even dating Lucille ,’ Delia added. 

'Baby steps!' Valerie protested. 

'And third, she's straight,’ Delia said with a finality in her tone. 

'How do you know that?' 

'Totally straight,’ she reiterated, her hand making a firm sweeping motion in front of her.

'You don't know that,’ Valerie replied, placing her empty bowl on the table. 

'Well you don't know she's not!’ Delia replied, anger growing in her chest. Her mind flashed back to the Patsy she had known back in school, all those feelings of spite and resentment swelling up in her chest again, her old habit of thinking Patsy was a conniving, selfish bitch  pricking at her mind again . ‘Women like her probably fool around with other women during Uni,’ she explained, getting whatever bias she had off her chest knowing in the back of her mind that this was probably unlike anything the Patsy she knew today would do, but spouted off resentfully anyway. ‘Before they fuck off and marry some investment banker with a loaded trust fund.'

'Are you saying  _ women  _ can't be investment bankers?' Valerie asked blithely, already sounding bored of where this conversation was going. 

'You know what I mean!’ Delia huffed. ‘She's not gay Val, and even if she was I wouldn't entertain the thought of… you know.’ 

Delia brought her mug to her lips out of habit and was disappointed to realize she was out of coffee. 

'Well fine. I just figured... if you did entertain the thought,’ Valerie shrugged indifferently, ‘it would be a good thing.'

'Why?'

'Because you have things in common? She’s a sweetheart? Thought she’d be your type and all that.’ 

‘Well,’ Delia huffed, not wanting to admit Valerie was right in that regard.

‘Probably do you good to try and date anyway, seeing as your workloads lightened up a bit. Whatever happened with that Priyanka girl? Any progress with her?’ 

‘She’s terrible too!’ Delia growled. ‘Another spoiled little rich girl probably drinking wine and eating olives in some Italian grove right about now on her parents' money.’ 

‘There you go again making assumptions.’

‘No, that’s a fact, actually. It’s what she told me when I had to cut our date short,’ Delia replied growing even more angry at the memory. ‘What did she expect going out with a doctor!? We can’t all have schedules like a freelancer!’ 

‘She might be sweet to a fault though,’ Valerie mused, licking her teeth as she looked up in contemplation. 

‘Who?’

‘Dr. Mount.’

‘Oh, we’re still talking about her?’ Delia grumbled. 

‘You think maybe she’s lonely?'

'Why do you say that?' Delia tapped her fingers impatiently on the table. ‘I mean, you said yourself she was right fit. She can take care of herself in that regard.’ 

'Dunno. Like, she's super nice and really eager to help. She gets on well with everyone and brings in cakes and stuff to the clinic. Takes us out for drinks.’ 

'Yes, I’m aware,’ Delia replied tersely.

'My gran always said the loneliest people are often the kindest,’ Valerie added. 

Delia grunted what could be interpreted as an agreement to that statement. 

The two women were silent for a beat, Valerie looking as if she were contemplating the meaning of life and Delia growing progressively more irritated that the conversation remained on Patsy. 

'How's she getting on since coming back to London anyway?' Valerie added curiously. 

'How do you mean? She's fine,’ Delia replied, checking the bottom of her mug to see if there was a drop of coffee left. 

'No but like, is she living with anyone?'

‘Why would you think I know something like that?’ Delia asked defensively, even though she absolutely knew the answer. Her heart sank in her chest thinking that Valerie might have a point, Patsy being lonely in that big house all by herself. Delia blinked and shook her head. Was she really considering Patsy’s feelings right now? 

‘I dunno! I just… no one’s really been interested in asking her anything other than what her life in the US was like.’ 

‘Oh, and whose fault is that?’ 

Delia’s response went ignored. ‘Figured with you and your briefings with Phyllis and Julienne you’d talk about… I dunno, personal stuff like that?’ 

'Well… no,’ Delia replied, sighing. ‘But I mean… I do know she’s got her own house.'

'Really?' Valerie asked, perking up. 

'Um, yeah,’ Delia replied shyly. ‘Family house. Said she grew up there and it was passed through the women in her family.'

'Oh!’ Valerie replied, looking up in thought. 'Isn’t that neat… Prolly means her mum's dead  though ,' she finished casually.

Delia was initially taken back by the abrupt statement, but then thought about it for a moment. 

Could Patsy’s mum have just died? Is that why she returned to London? Is that why she had the house? She mentioned it was passed down through the women in her family, so it would only make sense… 

Delia’s throat felt dry, her heart sinking low in her chest as she recalled her recent interactions with Patsy. Had she mentioned anything about any family whatsoever? Delia recalled possibly bringing it up once or twice, but every time Patsy would deflect. 

Was it really  _ just  _ her? Did she have a father? Siblings? Grandparents? Cousins?  Anyone ?! 

All of a sudden Delia felt the need to just...  _ be _ with Patsy. There was some sort of  fundamental d esire to just alleviate the woman's loneliness, if that's what it was. And if Patsy was completely fine, alone or not, then Delia reasoned she would feel better if she just checked in with her. 

Yeah. Just checking in. 

But why though? She was resolved to not like Patsy, though given this new revelation, Delia was driven to do  _ something _ . Something she thought was the right thing. 

But what  _ was  _ that even? Was she just driven by some insatiable curiosity to unravel the mystery that was Patsy Mount, former bully and current alluring woman who had annoyingly occupied Delia’s mind for the last few weeks and had charmed the way into the hearts of all those she knew and worked with?

She was so lost in thought, Delia didn’t even realize that she was moving on auto-pilot. Before she knew it, she had taken her bike off the hooks and was riding in the direction of Patsy's house. She had cycled in circles for a bit, riding down and up  Patsy’s road  a few times before she finally relented and parked the bike along the iron fence in front of Patsy's house. 

Delia walked up to the door, but that was as far as she got before she began to feel anxious, wondering just what Patsy would think if she was caught being here, showing up at her house on a Sunday morning for no apparent reason. She paced back and forth along the walkway,  quibbling over  on whether to knock or not. 

Just as she convinced herself that her reasoning for being there was silly and she should just leave before she embarrassed herself, the front door swung wide open to reveal Patsy standing there in a simple v-neck t-shirt and jeans, looking quite intrigued as to why Delia was standing there on her doorstep.

Delia stood up straight, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks for having been caught. 

‘Uh, hi,’ she said, giving an awkward laugh, ‘sorry, I didn’t… I wasn’t expecting you to open the door. Don’t think I even knocked…’ 

‘Oh,’ Patsy remarked, ‘well my doorbell is really a camera and a sensor,’ she pulled her phone out of her back pocket and waved it around. ‘Kept getting notifications on my phone that someone was out here. Just didn’t know who.’ 

‘Ah,’ Delia replied, narrowing her eyes spitefully at the doorbell, silently cursing modern technology. 

‘Thought it might be Rocky the squirrel,’ Patsy went on,  glancing around the front garden . 

Delia blinked. ‘Um, what?’ 

‘Sorry, there’s…there’s a squirrel on this road who's really  hench that everyone calls Rocky.’

Delia couldn’t help but smirk at the thought. ‘That so?’

‘Going ‘round eating all the bird food the neighbors set out.’ 

‘Must be really annoying.’ 

‘Super annoying,’ Patsy smirked with a roll of her eyes, placing her hands on her hips. ‘Really pisses the birds off, that Rocky. Thank goodness it’s you and not him.’ 

The comment had Delia looking down at her shoes so Patsy couldn’t see the wide grin that spread across her face. Whatever anxiety Delia had been holding onto that had led her to Patsy’s doorstep that morning melted away at the sight of Patsy smiling at her. She was starting to get the sense that Patsy had a knack for diffusing awkward or tense situations with humor. 

‘So, what’s up? Everything alright?’ 

Delia scratched her cheek, considering the question. She really thought she should be asking Patsy that. Hadn’t she gotten herself there that day out of an abundance of empathy for the woman because of... What, an assumption? An assumption that she was alone here? No friends or family? 

Delia considered where she was standing and recalled how Patsy said the house was passed down in her family, how she was now the steward of the place. She couldn’t just outright ask if Patsy’s mum was dead. Couldn’t outright ask about any kind of family or friends here in London. 

She couldn’t just assume Patsy had no one either, and insert herself in Patsy’s life out of pity. Was pity the right word for what Delia was feeling though? No, it was something else that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She just knew that she needed to at least offer to be there as someone Patsy could share some of her time with as a friend if she needed it. 

‘Well, the weather’s nice,’ Delia began, finding her verbal footing. ‘And I said last week I’d help you with the garden, if you still want to.’ 

Patsy crossed her arms and leaned her shoulder against the doorframe, raising a skeptical eyebrow. 

‘Only, if you’d like,’ Delia fidgeting nervously under Patsy’s gaze. ‘Thought we could run down to the shop and get a few seedlings and potting soil to get us started.’

‘Delia.’

‘Maybe start with some herbs. Basil and  coriander  are pretty easy. Tomatoes take a bit more time but worth it.’ 

‘I really don’t know a lick about gardening,’ Patsy said flatly. 

‘Ah, well…’ Delia chanced a glance at Patsy once more and saw the woman looking back at her with what looked like suspicion. 

Delia gulped. Anxiety coming back full force like a punch to the gut. Patsy had mentioned last week she didn’t know a thing about gardening. What made Delia think Patsy would want to spend her Sunday off gardening? Maybe she didn’t know anything about gardening because she didn’t want to? Maybe she hated gardening! Maybe the last thing she wanted to do was garden! Especially with her!

God! After everything that had happened these last few weeks, why on earth did Delia think Patsy would ever want to spend any more time with her than she had to!? 

Delia had obviously made a terrible mistake. 

‘Ok, no worries. Nevermind,’ Delia forced a smile and waved her hands in front of her, slowly backing away. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to bother you.’ 

Delia could barely hear herself over the pounding of her pulse in her ears. She hoped her voice didn’t shake as she fought off the urge to just start running away from here. 

‘No, Delia, wait.’ 

Patsy’s plea had Delia stop in her tracks. 

‘I’m just… so confused,’ Patsy breathed, looking nervous for the first time since Delia had known her. ‘I just thought, after… everything... you wouldn’t want anything to do with me. I feel like since I’ve come on at the clinic you’ve been avoiding me at all costs.’

Delia felt a pang of shame at the comment because it was entirely true. 

‘Rightly avoiding me, probably, but still. I don’t know, I’m just trying to give you space because it’s what I think you want… but here you are on my doorstep.’ 

Delia could feel herself calm slightly. It seemed the both of them were in some kind of uncharted territory and neither knew how to really move forward. 

She just knew that she  _ wanted  _ to move forward, even if she didn’t know how. She needed to try. 

‘Patsy, I don’t know. I’m… just as confused as you are with all this. I just… you... ‘ Delia crossed her arms stubbornly, not believing she was about to admit this, but she felt given the circumstance, it needed to be said. ‘You’re  _ fun _ , alright? I had a lot of fun with you last week and you’re not a terrible person to be around and… and I said I’d help you start a garden if you wanted and I try to be a woman of my word… so. Here I am.’ 

There was a moment of tense silence between them, punctuated by the sounds of life in the distance ; birds chirping, cars rolling by, some kids in the road kicking a ball around and shouting incoherently. 

Delia was already in a heightened state of anxiety and couldn’t help but glance at Patsy to gauge her reaction to what she had said. Delia had always been one to be comfortable telling people how she truly felt most times, but this particular instance had her feeling  very  vulnerable given their past. 

Another moment went by, and Patsy stuck her hands in her pockets, blowing out a breath of air, seeming uncertain and suspiciously casual. 

‘Yeah, I dunno. Barbara was telling me about some netflix show about a depressed cartoon horse and it really sounded right up my alley.’ 

‘Patsy!’ Delia’s fists clenched at her sides, annoyed that the woman had the audacity to make jokes. She couldn’t help the smile that slowly spread across her face as she watched Patsy relax slightly, her own smile gracing her features. 

‘Oh, alright, alright. Suppose it would be nice to get outside and do something productive.’ 

Patsy disappeared inside the house for a moment, and Delia could see her slipping on a pair of trainers and grabbing her keys from a hook beside the door. 

The two walked in silence after they closed the gate, and Patsy led them in the direction of  a small hardware store that she thought would be able to provide them with the things they would need to get started.

Even though no words were shared for several moments, Delia felt lighthearted, progressively more confident with each step she took alongside Patsy. Alright, she thought to herself, this is progress. They were making progress in… what, exactly? Being friends? 

Given their history Delia didn’t know if it was a possibility. The mere presence of Patsy back in her life ripped open those old wounds and they were still sore and hurting. Though, now in this moment, she didn’t feel completely awful at the sight of the woman. She didn’t feel resentment and hatred merely being near Patsy for once. And that was a start. 

‘Here we are,’ Patsy remarked, nodding ahead of her in the direction of the shop. There were several things placed along the  pavement  that were for sale, including a rack that held dozens of different kinds of seedlings with tags on them labeled Basil, Rosemary, Sage, Thyme, and several others. Delia took some basil and rosemary and handed the seedlings to Patsy. 

‘Valerie mentioned that the others at the clinic ask you about nothing but your time in the States,’ Delia started casually as they entered the little shop. It looked to be a general shop with a little bit of anything and everything one could need for any occasion. The shelves were packed with home goods to the point of bursting, and both Patsy and Delia needed to watch their hips and shoulders as they made their way down the aisles. 

‘Oh, did she?’ Patsy replied with a smirk.

‘Yeah. Though no interesting tales have made it back to me.’ 

‘Maybe my tales aren’t that interesting?’ 

‘Oh come on. You were there for ten years or something weren’t you? Something interesting must have happened.’ 

‘Oh, sure,’ Patsy mused, batting away a hanging basket of plastic beach toys. ‘But something interesting happens to everyone once a decade at least.’ 

‘Ugh,’ Delia groaned as she turned down an aisle that looked  promising. ‘Can you at least tell me anything interesting about the States? Any culture shocks?’ 

Patsy distractedly brought the basil in her hand to her nose for a curious sniff before she replied. ‘Hmm. One thing that comes to mind is no one in restaurants ever goes ‘ Waaaay! ’ if someone drops a glass.’ 

‘Wait, are you serious? What do they say?’ 

‘Nothing!’ Patsy replied, looking as shocked as Delia felt at this information. ‘Everyone just completely ignores it and goes about their business.’ 

‘That’s so strange,’ Delia marveled. ‘A glass breaks and they don’t even acknowledge it?’ 

‘Nope. Well, alright, I’ve been to a few dinners in people's homes where they do the Greek thing and say ‘Opa!’ but out in public it’s just dead silence.’ 

Patsy put her finger to her lips, looking up in thought. 

‘Except for those first few times when I was new and I was the only one shouting ‘ Waaaay!’ In  the restaurant.’ 

Delia couldn’t help but crack a smile at the thought. 

‘That was awkward.’ 

‘I bet it was. Hand me that bag of potting soil, would you?’ 

Patsy did as instructed, and grasped a few more things that Delia suggested; some simple gardening tools, gloves, and seeds. They carried their things to the counter and Delia looked around for anything else she thought they might need. In her search, she looked to her side to see that Patsy had wandered off back through the shop somewhere. 

Delia raised a curious eyebrow as  she watched the top of the woman's head meandering through the aisle with the outdoor toys. 

Patsy soon emerged from the aisle holding two super soakers like an action movie hero. 

‘I want this,’ she said matter of factly. 

Delia blinked. ‘What are you, five?’ 

‘No, Delia. I’m a grown woman,’ Patsy replied, placing the water guns on the counter next to the bag of potting soil. They looked sorely out of place with the rest of the items they were buying. 

‘Why do you want water guns?’ Delia asked. 

‘Why don’t you want water guns?’ 

Delia continued to look at Patsy queerly. 

Patsy huffed and dramatically tossed her hair over her shoulder. ‘Look Delia, I’m feeling , like,  really judged right now,’ she said in an impeccable American accent. 

‘Oh my god,’ Delia closed her eyes and shook her head, biting back a grin at the absurdity of this. 

‘And if you’re going to be all negative about me wanting super soakers then you can just fuck right off, alright?’ 

‘Is that… is that what they sound like over there?’ Delia asked, unable to contain her grin. 

‘Just some, yes,’ Patsy replied in her normal voice, giving a shrug. 

‘Alright, but the super soakers though… what are you even going to do with them?’ 

‘Delia, I’m going to do what any adult would do with super soakers.’

Delia shrugged. ‘Fill them with booze?’

‘What? No!’ Patsy replied, then looked up in thought, ‘though that’s not a bad idea.’ 

‘Well that's the first thing that came to my mind. Don’t know what else you’d do with them.’ 

‘Well I was thinking sometime I’d fill them with water and play with them. You know, as intended.’ 

‘Huh…’ Delia blinked, looking curiously at Patsy who seemed excited at the prospect of taking home her super soakers and trying them out. The thought of actually  _ playing  _ eluded Delia for some reason. For a moment she dug deep back into the recesses of her brain to try and recall the last time she had, well,  _ played _ . For fun. The most recent occurrence was the week before when she was with Patsy and recalled having the most fun she had had doing something that didn’t involve alcohal or sex. Not that she partook in the latter that often these days. 

‘Or you know, use them to shoo away Rocky the squirrel from a safe distance.’ Patsy added, and Delia had to stifle yet another giggle. 

‘Is you two goin’ t’ stan there all day chatting and holding up tha queue?’ the elderly woman behind the counter asked. 

‘Oh, sorry!’ Patsy replied as she retrieved her phone. She tapped it against the reader to scan her card, and the two took their haul back to Patsy's house, walking around to the back garden, the super soakers set aside for another time. 

Patsy seemed to have tamed the grass since Delia had last been back here. Several ceramic pots had been collected and stacked along the brick wall that separated her property from her neighbors. 

‘Do you get a lot of sunlight by the door?’ Delia asked. 

‘Suppose,’ Patsy shrugged. ‘Get just as much by the wall, too.’ 

‘It’s easier if they're by the door. That way you can just pop out with your super soaker in the morning and not have to leave the kitchen,' Delia remarked with a smirk. 

‘Lazy gardening,' Patsy smiled. 'I like the way you think, Busby.’

The two collected a few pots and set them by the back door, both women kneeling in the grass as Delia opened the bag of soil and Patsy looked on. She seemed perfectly content letting Delia do all of the work. 

‘Feel free to reach in and fill a pot,' Delia suggested. Well, it was more of a command masked as a suggestion. Her tone didn’t seem to phase Patsy in the slightest. 

‘Oh, I don’t like getting my hands dirty,’ Patsy replied lightly with a shrug. 

Delia paused her motions and huffed indignantly. 

‘You go on ahead though. I’m enjoying watching you work.’ 

Patsy’s shoulders shook with laughter as Delia reacted appropriately, by throwing the brand new pair of gardening gloves in the redhead’s face. 

‘This will be a better use of your time than being inside watching a depressed cartoon horse,’ Delia remarked as she sorted the herbs they had bought. 

‘I have no doubt,’ Patsy replied as she  pulled on the gloves.

‘Barbara does recommend great shows though,’ Delia said conversationally. ‘She’s a bit of a theatre nerd  as well .’ 

‘Really? Wouldn’t peg her as a performer.’ 

‘We all have hidden talents, I suppose.’ 

‘Like you and your singing?’ 

Delia rolled her eyes, butterflies swarming on her stomach at the mere mention of her singing. ‘Still can’t believe I let you talk me into singing.’ 

‘Glad I did.’

‘ _ Anyway _ ,’ Delia was quick to get back to discussing Barbara. ‘She enjoys  _ going  _ to the theatre mostly. Too much stage fright to perform, she says, but I reckon she’s a little too uncoordinated to be up on stage like that without hurting someone.’

‘Why do you say that?’ 

‘I’ve never seen the woman play a sport without giving someone a bloody nose or black eye.’ 

Patsy smirked, ‘Well that might be par for the course depending which sport.’ 

‘Rugby, perhaps, but  _ badminton _ ?’ 

‘Ah, well…’ Patsy trailed off, gently lowering the basil into her pot. 

‘She grew up in a small village with no cinema,’ Delia went on, ‘so she and her schoolmates would put on little shows for their mates and parents to pass the time. Said it was a great creative outlet after her mum died.’ 

Delia froze when she realized what she had just said. 

She could feel herself breaking out into a cold sweat awaiting Patsy's reaction. She  _ specifically _ did not want to bring up the subject of deceased mothers, but the topic was probably bouncing around in her subconscious since her chat with Valerie this morning, and it just slipped out. Delia wanted to kick herself for not having a better filter. 

‘Oh, I didn’t know her mum had passed,’ Patsy replied, looking concerned. 

‘I-it was a long time ago, when she was a kid,’ Delia replied, unable to meet Patsy’s eyes as her heart beat frantically in her chest. She certainly didn’t want to give Patsy any hint that she was digging for information about her family, and she was also kicking herself for even mentioning such a personal part of Barbara’s past. ‘Sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said anything…’ 

‘Hmm,’ Patsy hummed noncommittally as she patted down the soil in her pot. ‘Suppose we all deal with grief differently,’ Patsy replied quietly. 

She removed the soil covered glove from her right hand and brushed back her fringe, her gaze focused on the sky. 

‘Been nearly ten years since my mum died,’ she said quietly, ‘and I feel like I’m just starting to process it.’ 

A moment passed where neither woman talked. Delia was finally able to look over at Patsy to observe her expression. Calm, somber, thoughtful. The only sounds were that of a gentle spring breeze, the musical clinking of wind chimes from a nearby awning. 

Delia removed her gloves and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. 

She always struggled to find the words in situations like this. What was the right thing to even say? Delia didn’t know, and even if she asked, Patsy probably wouldn’t know either. 

Perhaps, sometimes, there just didn't need to be words. 

Delia reached over and grasped Patsy’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She smiled when she felt Patsy squeeze back, and for a moment they remained quiet, holding hands. 

She hoped the gesture conveyed more than any supposed words of comfort ever could. 

After another quiet moment, the two women slowly let go of one another. 

Patsy silently donned her gloves again and grasped another pot, filling it with soil. She placed it in front of Delia and carved out a small hole in the soil with her finger. 

Wordlessly, and with Patsy looking on encouragingly, Delia planted a seed.

* * *

‘I may not know how to do much in the kitchen, but I know how to make a decent sandwich.’ 

Delia sat on a stool in Patsy's kitchen, her chin in her hand as she leaned her elbow on the countertop. She silently admired the back end of Patsy without really meaning to as the taller woman finished making their lunch and placed a rather delectable looking turkey sandwich in front of Delia on a plate. It was  garnished  with some crisps and a pickle slice. 

Delia’s mouth watered at the sight as she just then realized she had skipped out on breakfast. Not to mention having worked up a bit of an appetite preparing the garden for what she and Patsy had planned the following weekend: gardening boxes. They finished planting their herbs and worked on making space for the new boxes, which they agreed would have tomatoes, carrots, and cucumbers; all relatively  easy for  beginner  gardeners. 

‘Patsy, this looks amazing.’ 

Patsy smiled as she placed two glasses of water on the counter and took a seat across from Delia. 

‘Save your praise, you haven’t even tried it.’ 

Delia took a bite and hummed her approval. ‘Alright, it tastes amazing too!’ 

Patsy smiled proudly as she took a bite of her own sandwich. ‘I’m glad you’re enjoying it,’ she remarked after swallowing a mouthful of food. 

‘Why?’ Delia asked, taking another bite and thoroughly enjoying the tanginess of the spicy mustard. 

‘It’s nice to see someone enjoy something I’ve made, is all,’ Patsy replied with a shy shrug. 

Delia had no reservations with her compliments. ‘Truly, this is like something you'd get at a fancy deli. Do you usually make something like this?’

‘Not recently, no. I just came to find sandwiches were the perfect meal to have while studying. Can eat them one handed while reading or writing. I’m pretty useless in the kitchen otherwise.’ 

‘I can’t imagine.’ 

‘Its true. Can hardly boil an egg,’ Patsy sighed, sounding ashamed. 

‘You sound like Valerie. She lives on sugary cereal and microwave meals. I often wonder how she's still alive.’ 

‘Well, I feel like for the first time in my life I have some spare time. I want to learn how to cook but I just don’t know where to start.’

Delia looked up and around as she munched on her sandwich, noting the pots and pans that dangled above her from hooks, and the myriad of spices that decorated the walls, and the counterspace. Oh the  _ space _ . She could see herself cooking an elaborate meal or two in here. 

Several weeks ago, Delia wouldn't have been able to fathom suggesting what she was about to say, but she felt like circumstances had changed since then. 

‘Patsy,’ she began slowly. 

‘Hmm?’ 

‘I could… you know, teach you a thing or two, if you’d like.’ 

‘Really?’

Delia shrugged, popping a crisp in her mouth, trying to remain nonchalant. ‘Sure. Don’t see why not.’ 

‘Oh, Delia I couldn’t ask you-’ 

‘You’re not. I’m offering. Why don’t you think of something you’d like to make for next Sunday? I can come over and we can buy fresh ingredients at the farmers market.’ 

Patsy gave a shy smile and Delia tried to ignore how the sight affected her. 

‘You sure?’ Patsy asked, ‘things could go terribly wrong in here.’ 

Delia shrugged. ‘Cooking is about experimentation. Anything can happen.’ 

The sensation of vibration from her back pocket had Delia nearly jumping out of her seat. It took her a second to realize it was just her phone. 

‘Sorry,’ she said to Patsy as she recognized the number on her screen. ‘I’ve got to take this. It’s the hospital.’

She answered the call, and after receiving some information from a nurse on the other line, Delia hung up and looked at Patsy regretfully. 

‘Everything alright?’ Patsy asked. 

‘I’m sorry, I’ve got to go in. Patient of mine is only 32 weeks along and it seems the baby wants out now.’ 

‘Oh my. You better get going then. Here,’ Patsy replied, taking Delia’s plate, ‘you call a cab and I’ll wrap this up.’ 

Not wanting to waste any time, Delia did just that, calling an  Uber while Patsy put the kettle on and wrapped the rest of Delia’s sandwich with her crisps in a paper bag. 

‘You’ll probably be in for a long night so you should have some tea at the very least,’ Patsy said, pouring hot water and a bag of english breakfast into a thermos. 

‘Patsy, you didn’t need to-’

‘Already done,’ Patsy replied, ushering Delia towards the front door. 

Delia’s phone pinged to alert her that her ride was here. 

‘I’m sorry I have to go,’ Delia said, truly meaning it. She turned once she crossed the threshold of the doorway to look back at Patsy, feeling a sense of deja vu. 

Patsy merely shrugged. ‘No need to apologize, Delia. I get it.’ 

She handed Delia the sandwich and thermos and walked her to the car, waving her off as Delia sat in the back seat, blinking and feeling as if she were in a daze. 

I get it. 

Delia replayed that line in her head 

I get it. 

Delia smirked. 

Well, she was glad someone out there did. 


	8. Girl Afraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Girl afraid  
> Where do her intentions lay?  
> Or does she even have any?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tipsy Patsy. Fluff. Flirting. Oh yeah, it's Pride.

‘You are  _ such  _ a homosexual.’ 

Patsy huffed indignantly, placing a hand on her hip. She held her phone to her ear with her shoulder as she opened her refrigerator. 

‘What? How? How is any of that gay?’ she asked Vanessa earnestly, pulling out a bottle of sprite. 

‘Um, you go to the farmers market every week? You’re making sandwiches for her now?’

‘She likes my sandwiches,’ Patsy defended quietly. In the weeks since Delia had so vociferously complimented her sandwich making, she had been bringing extras with her to the clinic each day, offering a grateful Delia her spare sandwich when the woman had been too  bogged  down with work or had simply forgotten to pack something hearty that day. Patsy didn’t mind as Delia was always grateful for what she  proclaimed to be  the most marvelous sandwiches she had ever tasted. Patsy took a certain amount of pride in making something Delia enjoyed so much, and she rather liked that she was just able to do something  _ nice _ for the woman after everything she had put her through. 

‘You held hands… while  _ gardening _ !’ 

‘We had a moment!’ Patsy sputtered out. 

‘A gay moment! The gayest moment there ever was. Patsy admit it, you’re already married to this woman without any of the benefits.’

Patsy rolled her eyes and opened the bottle of sprite, pouring half of it down the sink. 

‘Well, regardless, nothing is going to happen romantically with this one.’ 

‘Why?’

‘She’s straight and she hates me, remember?’ 

‘You don’t know that.’ 

‘Yes I do,’ Patsy replied quietly, recalling how she had  divulged all the details to Vanessa  the moment she was able to get the woman on the phone again after she had settled things with Delia. 

Patsy went to her freezer this time and pulled out a half empty bottle of Grey Goose vodka. 

‘That’s of no concern now anyway,’ Patsy went on, topping off her bottle of sprite with vodka, ‘I’m headed off to Pride today. I’ll be around people who are  _ for sure _ queer.’ 

‘She’s queer.’ 

‘Who knows’ Patsy  continued , ignoring Vanessa's comment, ‘I may meet the love of my life at Pride, so.’ 

‘Ugh, don’t talk to me about Pride. I’m fuckin’ pissed I’ll be missing it this year.’ 

‘Well, more reason for me to live it up for the two of us,’ Patsy replied,  swirling  her vodka/sprite concoction in the bottle. ‘When are you coming over anyway? Any word on when you’ll be headed back home to the states?’ 

‘You know I can’t say over the phone. I promise it’s soon, OK?’ 

Patsy suppressed an aggravated sigh. Stupid army and their security rules. ‘Ok.’ 

‘But yeah, do me a solid and totally hit on some hot babes at London Pride, would ya? God knows at some point you’ll strike gold.’ 

‘Right, like you say, you miss-’

‘One hundred percent of the shots you don’t take. Yeah, yeah I know. In your case I just want you to get fucking laid, alright?’

‘Ness!’ 

‘Seriously, I know I told you to take some time for yourself when you dumped that bitch but it’s been nearly two years. How are you not going crazy?’ 

‘Well maybe I need more time to figure my shit out,’ Patsy shrugged. ‘Maybe I’m not ready to date, alright? Maybe I don’t want to.’ 

‘Oh right, I forgot you’re already married.’ 

Patsy rolled her eyes and  said goodbye  to Vanessa, tucking her phone in her back pocket once she hung up. She was left feeling a little miffed at her friend  for pestering her about Delia. She knew there would never be anything between her and  the Welshwoman other than whatever sort of tepid friendship they seemed to have embarked on these last few weeks. The woman probably wasn’t even gay, and Patsy had no interest in wasting any time on fancying someone who had no intention of fancying her back. 

Despite this, she just didn’t have time to date. She  _ did  _ have other things going on in her life that kept her quite busy, thank you very much. She still hadn’t unpacked and organized everything from her move across the Atlantic, for instance, and there were a myriad of things to attend to around the house. Repairs and such! Surely she couldn’t bring someone back here for some dinner and wine, among other things. Patsy highly doubted anyone she brought home would have anything nice to say about the state of her house as it was, or be as enthusiastic to see her collection of old Nintendo games from the 90’s. 

Well, except Delia, of course. 

Patsy sighed and pressed her nose against the  glass in the back door . She looked out at the garden and thought of all the progress that was made over the last few weeks. Hedges and tree branches had been trimmed, grass was cut. Everything looked square and tidy just as Patsy prefered it. There was a plot of new daffodils and other flowers growing in the corner, some gardening boxes lining the brick wall between her and her neighbor’s home. The  raised  beds of soil were just starting to sprout seedlings of the vegetables she and Delia had planted a week or so ago. 

Patsy smiled and felt some pride in all she had accomplished back there. She never thought she would enjoy the task of getting on her hands and knees in the sun, and soil under her nails, but now that she was starting to see the fruits of her labor, she reckoned it was all worth it. Her thoughts drifted to these past Sundays where Delia would come over and they would work in the garden and make a meal together in the evenings to teach her a thing or two just like she had promised, usually sharing a bottle of wine and entertaining stories of their wild and misguided youths. 

Patsy smiled at the thought. But then, a sinking feeling settled into the pit of her stomach. 

Oh, god, Vanessa was  _ so  _ right. She fancied Delia. Given everything they did together, they  _ were  _ basically married.

Maybe she needed to try and get a girlfriend so she could get over this little crush she had on Delia… and maybe Pride was the sort of place she could keep an eye out for one. 

Patsy took a swig of her vodka sprite and objectively decided there wasn’t enough vodka. She added a healthy pour into her bottle before she headed out for the day. 

* * *

'You know Janelle Monae?' 

Patsy had finished off her annual _day_ _drinking_ _during_ _Pride_ cocktail ages ago and had found herself settled into an empty pub with none other than Valerie. 

She had wandered aimlessly during the festivities, settling in with the crowd of people to take in the  impressive  parade and admiring all the floats that passed by. She’d had a wonderful day by herself, adhering to no schedule and allowing herself to just wander around and take in the sights. 

Patsy was surprised to have run into Valerie near  a tube station, the woman in a rainbow tank top with aviators and cut off shorts. She looked positively queer and Patsy was dumbfounded that she had never noticed before. 

A little drunk and in need of more booze, Patsy tagged along with her back to Poplar where Valerie opened her family's pub for the evening crowd, The Black Sail. Even though the place was nowhere near Soho, it was decked out in rainbow flags and Pride gear, making it a very welcoming place. Valerie walked around and turned on all the lights and began to set up the bar as Patsy settled in on a stool. Valerie had kindly given Patsy another vodka sprite to nurse as she cut lemons and limes and other garnishes as Patsy chatted. 

'No, who's that?' Valerie asked, throwing a  towel  over her shoulder. She continued her tasks behind the bar as Patsy went on. 

'An American.'

'Ok.’

'From the south somewhere. Georgia. No, Kansas.’

'Yeah? Did you know her?' Valerie asked, continuing to slice limes. 

'Oh God no, no. She's a celebrity. A musician. Singer.'

'Yeah?' 

‘Yeah. Little thing. Black woman. She sings like a mixture of soul and pop.'

'Right on.’ Valerie nodded approvingly. 

'She's really good.'

'Yeah? I'll have to check her out sometime.'

'You know she's got this one song,' Patsy said, her voice lowering, 'its um, it's about…’

Though a little tipsy, Patsy felt herself blush just even wanting to mention the scandalous music video. 

'What?' Valerie looked at her, amused and curious. 

'Oh, you know, it's called Yoga.'

'Yeah?' 

'Oh yeah,' Patsy rested her head on her hand, sighing dreamily. 

'So she's got a soul pop song about yoga?' 

'Well I should explain that Janelle is a little queer,’ Patsy said quietly, biting her lip. 

She was  _ so _ happy to have found out Valerie was gay, she decided. It was just so mch fun to have someone around to talk about gay things with! Specifically attractive women! 

'That so?' Valerie asked, sounding more interested. 

'Yeah, she's kind of like a femme butch.’ 

'Best of both worlds,' Valerie shrugged, grinning. 

'That's what I'm saying, right?’

‘Kind of like what you’ve got going on?’ 

Patsy blinked. ‘Huh?’ 

‘You know,’ Valerie looked pointedly at Patsy and waved her knife in her direction, ‘you’ve got the long-ish hair and some makeup but the Hawaiian shirt with the sleeves rolled up.’ 

‘That’s… what? The butch part?’ Patsy asked, thoroughly confused. She thought she looked pretty normally dressed for a summer day. 

‘That’s all the rage these days? I don’t know, I can't keep up with the trends like you posh types, but you got that tomboy dyke vibe from a mile away.’ 

Valerie stabbed an olive and ate it off the knife as Patsy sat there wondering if she had always looked like how Valerie described. 

‘So, you were saying about this Janelle chick?’ Valerie asked. 

Patsy blinked and focused on the topic at hand. ‘Oh, right. Well, her thing is to always wear a suit of some kind. She says it's an homage to her mum who worked as a maid. Wore a uniform every day and all that.'

'Yeah, I can respect that.’

'But the way Janelle wears a suit, I mean, she's just  _ so  _ pretty. But she's a little thing right?' 

'Right.’ 

'Like a little pixie. A fairy.'

'A soul singing pixie femme butch, got it.'

'Right, all I'm trying to say is that I've only ever seen her in a suit and bow tie.' 

'Love me a girl in a bow tie,' Valerie agreed. 

'I know, isn't it just precious?' Patsy replied with a lopsided smile. 

'So, yoga,' Valerie continued. 

'Right, yoga. She has a song called  _ Yoga  _ and does yoga in the music video.'

Valerie looked at Patsy expectantly, waiting silently for her to continue. 

Patsy sat up straight in her seat and brought her drink to her lips. 

‘... and it's very pleasant to watch.’ 

Valerie’s chin met her chest and she sighed disappointedly as Patsy sipped the last of her drink through the tiny mixing straw. 

'That it then? That's the end of your little story?' 

'It sounded better in my head, buh dime runk.'

'You're what now?' Valerie teased. 

'Buhdime Runk!' 

'Yeah, no kidding.'

'Look, all I'm saying is that in this music yoga video, right, you have butch pixie goddess swapping out a suit for some yoga clothes and the whole time she's doing poses while in skin tight trousers and Val I just…' Patsy took a deep breath, at a loss for words. 

'Can’t handle yourself?' 

'It's the best thing I have ever seen in my whole life,’ Patsy finished with a sigh. 

'I'm gonna have to roll you out of here aren't I? Carry you out in front of an Uber.’ 

'Oh God, I hope not in  _ front  _ of an Uber.’ 

'Fine,  _ to  _ an Uber then. Let them deal with the inevitable mess you'll leave in the back, I'm sure.'

'I don't want to mess up anyone's car. I'm not Delia,' Patsy pursed her lips and blew a raspberry before bringing her drink back to her mouth. She looked at the glass of nearly melted ice with one eye skeptically when she realized there was no  alcohol left. 

'What?’ Valerie laughed, ‘What did Delia do? She going around messing with other people’s cars?' 

'She nearly tore the door of a lorry, that one,’ Patsy replied, swishing the ice around in her glass. 

'I believe it,’ Valerie replied. She narrowed her eyes and slowly nodded her head, ‘She may be small, but she's mighty.' 

'It was an accident you know. Saw the whole thing.'

'When did this happen?' 

‘You want to know?’

Valerie raised an eyebrow as Patsy surreptitiously slid her empty glass across the bar. The Poplar native rolled her eyes and gave Patsy a spritz of water. 

‘Drink that down and I’ll give you more booze. Now what happened?’ 

Patsy gulped down her water in one go and placed her glass in front of Valerie. 

‘More vodka, please.’

Valerie filled her glass once more with her preferred  poison  and waited patiently for Patsy to continue. 

‘Happened a week or so after I started working at the clinic,’ the redhead began, ‘She was riding a bicycle, then suddenly  _ wham _ !’ Patsy emphasized her point by slapping her hand on the bar, ‘Delia is on the ground, poor thing, mangled her bike and all. Nearly tore the door of some nasty looking blokes lorry.’ 

Patsy paused, taking a sip of her drink. 

‘Patched her up right then and there,’ she went on, ‘actually ended up hanging out the rest of the day.’ 

Patsy downed her drink, the empty glass clinking loudly against the bar. 

‘Another?’ Valerie asked. 

‘Yup.’ 

Patsy pushed her glass to Valerie who filled it with ice, vodka, and a spritz of sprite. 

‘So you two ended up hanging out after she crashed her bike?’ Valerie asked. 

‘Yeah. It just kind of… happened, you know? Turned out the bike shop was on the way to the farmers market and then one thing led to another and we’re buying groceries together and singing karaoke back at my place.’ 

‘Right on,’ Valerie grinned. ‘Thought Delia was in better spirits recently since you came on. Seems she’s made a friend in you.’ 

‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that,’ Patsy mumbled. 

‘No, really! I’ve noticed you two getting on a bit better since that first week,’ Valerie continued, ignoring Patsy’s grumbling as she wiped down the bar with a  cloth . ‘Thought it was because she felt jealous that another doctor was coming on at the clinic, you know? Like you were on her turf.’ 

‘Oh, no, nothing like that. Delia and I actually-’ Patsy stopped herself from blathering on about the reason why Delia was truthfully upset as Valerie continued. 

‘Seems you needed to show off your skills to win her over. Good thing too, everyone thought she was being daft for giving you the cold shoulder.’ 

‘Well, I mean-’ Patsy was cut off again. 

‘Which I found so weird because you're totally her type.’ 

Patsy blinked. ‘What?’ 

‘Yeah, she’s got a thing for taller women. Well, I mean, everyone is taller than she is, right, but specifically tall redheads. Like, she's  _ obsessed  _ with Gillian Anderson, you know? Anyway, I thought you two would at least hit it off when you first came to the clinic, which is why I found it weird she didn’t like you at first.’ 

‘Wait,’ Patsy held her hands up. She knew she was tipsy but she wasn’t at the point of hallucinating or imagining things. Like Valerie here telling her that  _ she _ was Delia’s type. Did that mean Delia was gay!?

‘What? You’re not gonna lose your lunch, are you?’ Valerie asked, grasping onto the towel draped over her shoulder. 

‘No, no… I just. Delia, she’s…’ 

‘What?’

‘Hey!’ 

Patsy froze as she felt herself grabbed by the shoulders and turned around on her swivelling barstool. 

She was met with the sight of Barbara and Trixie, the two women dressed in rainbow apparel. Rainbow tops, rainbow capes, rainbow stockings and rainbow tutus with rainbow face paint and glitter, and of course, an assortment of beads draped around their necks that must have been thrown at them from the multitude of parade floats that passed by. 

‘Wow,’ Patsy quipped, giving them a once over as the two grinned back enthusiastically. 

‘Fancy seeing you here!’ Barbara said. 

‘Um,’ Patsy blinked several times, taken aback  by the brilliance of their smiles. 

‘Didn’t know you’d partake in the festivities!’ Barabra went on with a grin. 

‘Likewise,’ Patsy quipped, her eyes continuing to dart up and down, taking in the sight of them. 

‘I see this one convinced you to come to her family's drab basement pub, too, hmm?’ Trixie asked, hand on her hip and looking at Valerie behind the bar. 

‘Drab?’ Valerie made a distasteful noise, ‘I’ll have you know this place’ll be packed with homos any second now glamming the place up! So many gorgeous gays are gonna fill the place, you’re not gonna know what to do with yourself!’

She reached for the wall behind her and flipped several switches, and Patsy blinked as the lights around her flickered. On came soft purple and blue lights flashing against a disco ball that  hung from the ceiling  and  was throwing diamond shaped  sparkles  along the walls and floor. 

‘Well that’s certainly an improvement,’ Barbara remarked, her eyes wide and looking up and around at the place. 

Patsy nearly jumped when she noticed the intensity of Trixie’s gaze on her. 

‘You’re not decorated enough,’ Trixie said, waving a pointed finger around her. 

‘Decorated?’ Patsy asked. 

‘Should I?’ Barbara asked, looking pointedly to Trixie. 

Trixie gave a resounding nod. ‘Do it.’ 

‘Wait, what’s happ-’ 

Before Patsy could finish, she watched as Barbara raised her clenched fist and threw  a handful of something . Patsy instinctively closed her eyes and mouth to prevent anything from getting in.

Slowly, Patsy blinked her eyes open and found she was covered in sparkly glitter. Her forearms, her top, her shorts, her thighs, all were completely covered. She could only imagine what her face and hair looked like right then. 

‘Glitter bomb!’ Barbara said happily. 

‘Gee, thanks Barbra,’ Patsy replied flatly, blowing a raspberry to get the little flecks off her lips. 

‘You’re welcome!’ 

‘Val! Sprite for me, please!’ Trixie ordered, her hand in the air, ‘Babe, what are you having?’ 

Patsy quirked her eyebrows at that. Babe? 

‘Gin and tonic for me, please.’ 

Patsy wondered for a moment if the two of them were together. She also wondered if everyone she worked with at the clinic was gay? At this rate she imagined that any moment now Julienne and Phyllis were going to come down the stairs clad in leather chaps and challenge them all to a game of pool. She really only cared to know that kind of information about one person, really, and she swiveled around in her chair to find Valerie who had been on the cusp of telling her things that Patsy very much would have liked to hear.

‘Val.’

‘Yeah?’ Valerie said distractedly, eyeballing a remote in her hand, pointing it in the direction of a stereo up on a shelf as she thumbed the buttons. 

‘You mentioned something about Delia earlier.’ 

‘Hmm?’

‘That I was her… well, is she…’ 

‘She what?’ Valerei asked, banging the defunct remote against the bar. 

‘Oi, Val,’ came a voice, and the four women in the pub turned to the swing door behind the bar where a middle-aged woman stood  wearing a t-shirt stating  _ Love is Love _ in rainbow letters. ‘Yer mum’s on her way to help ya and she’s bringing yer gran with ‘er.’ 

‘Gran?’ Valerie asked, surprised, ‘Gran’s working tonight?!’

‘Well, someone’s got to DJ,’ the woman shrugged. 

‘Whose that?’ Patsy asked, taking a sip of her drink. 

‘My Aunt Flo,’ Valerie replied, nodding in the direction of the woman, ‘Oi, Aunt Flo, this is Patsy. Works with me down the clinic.’ 

Patsy smiled and gave a friendly tip of her drink at the woman, who merely looked back at her. 

‘What happened to you? You have a roll in the sheets with the tin man?’ 

‘Might of,’ Patsy replied, sipping more of her drink as she narrowed her eyes at Barbara. 

Barabra giggled behind her gin and tonic, and Patsy could see behind her and Trixie that people were starting to trickle into the pub, many looking sunburnt and day-drunk, similarly covered in rainbow apparel and glitter from that day's festivities. 

‘Parade must finally be over,’ Valerie said. 

‘I’ll go and prop open the doors. You ready?’ Flo asked, giving her hands a resounding clap. 

Patsy could practically see the pound signs flash behind her eyes at the thought of the crowd that was about to pass through that night. 

Valerie twirled two bottle openers  on  her index fingers like a straight shooter from the Wild West. ‘Bring it on.’ 

Soon, the doors were open for the evening and more and more people began to trickle into the pub. Music was thumping and people were dancing and mingling. Valerie was busy at the bar with one  punter after another approaching, giving their orders and keeping her pulling pints or making drinks. Patsy was fascinated at the speed  with  which the woman worked. She had been left alone with Barbara and Trixie, who seemed rather enamoured with themselves for the time being, leading Patsy to believe there was  _ something _ going on between the two, even though she couldn’t work out exactly what. 

Patsy happily talked to no one, simply watching the crowd and sipping her drink from her comfortable spot at the bar. 

‘You having a good time Patsy?’ 

Patsy turned to Barbara and nodded, downing the last of her drink as the noise of the people and music around her seemed to escalate. While at any other time she would happily engage in conversation with the two, she didn’t want them to see her tipsy.

She made some excuse to the two women about finding the toilet, when  really she was going to try and find  her way outside and get some air. Maybe walk home and pray the inevitable hangover wouldn't be too debilitating in the morning. 

As she made her way through the crowd of people, a shoulder bumped against her arm, and she looked down to see a familiar brunette. 

‘Delia, hi!’ Patsy was overwhelmed by how happy she felt at the sight of the woman. ‘Fancy seeing you here,’ she grinned at Delia’s surprised reaction. 

‘Patsy!’ Delia exclaimed, looking just as happy and amused to see her there.

Patsy took a moment to look over the woman's appearance, looking completely like herself; extraordinarily cute in a striped t-shirt and skinny jeans. Except for the fact that she was similarly covered in glitter. 

‘Did Barbara get to you too?’ Patsy asked. 

Delia laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.  The tiny gesture honestly made Patsy swoon a little. 

‘Yeah, I take it she got to you?’ 

Patsy nodded, her smile growing into a grin at the sight of Delia. ‘You here to support Valerie?’ she asked. Because of course Delia wouldn’t be here to celebrate Pride. Since she wasn’t gay. Nope. 

‘Support Valerie?’

‘Well, because she’s your flatmate. Thought you’d come out to keep her going on a busy night like this?’

‘Oh, yeah, suppose so,’ Delia shrugged, ‘Here for the free drinks mostly.’ 

‘Oh definitely. Certainly the best perk of being friends with Valerie.’ 

Someone dancing behind Delia bumped into her and pushed her closer to Patsy unintentionally. This went unnoticed by the two of them who both seemed to phase out the crowd around them and focus  only on o ne another. 

‘You having fun?’ Delia asked. 

Patsy smiled back, admittedly still tipsy but feeling rather dazzled by Delia’s close proximity. She couldn't stop smiling.

‘Yeah, I like this song,’ Patsy said, finding herself swaying to the beat, even though she had never heard this song before. 

‘Me too,’ Delia replied, swaying along.

Someone shoved Patsy from behind, effectively pushing her into Delia. She grasped onto Delia’s arms, noticing very much how Delia  grabbed  onto her hips to hold her steady, yet didn’t let go. 

‘Sorry.’ Patsy said. 

‘It’s alright,’ Delia replied. 

Patsy’s breath caught in her throat, her body reacting much faster than her brain could catch up at being so close to Delia. She vaguely remembered she was not supposed to feel this way towards Delia, and felt as if her body was betraying her. 

‘Do you want to…’ she started, too unsure to go on. 

‘Dance?’ 

‘Yeah,’ Patsy breathed. 

‘Yeah.’ 

The two shared a laugh as they engaged in an impromptu  boogie  right there on the crowded floor. 

What was happening? Any other time Patsy would not be acting like this and she certainly wouldn't be acting like this with Delia, someone with whom  she had a rather...complicated relationship . But yet she was there giggling and dancing and flirting with a woman who was not only straight but also someone who did not like her. Like, at all. 

‘Do you mind if I ask,’ Delia started, breaking Patsy  from  her thoughts. 

‘What’s that?’ 

‘Are you…’ 

Patsy had opened her mouth to ask what, but stopped herself as two arms appeared from behind Delia and  wrapped around the woman, pulling her back into the crowd. 

‘Delia! I thought that was you!’ the woman said. 

Patsy watched as Delia looked over her shoulder to a tall brunette. 

‘Priyanka!’

‘Delia, you sweet thing, I’ve missed you!’

Patsy watched as this Priyanka person drunkenly grasped Delia’s face with both hands and pulled the woman in for a kiss. 

Well. Witnessing that turned Patsy off to any idea she had ever entertained of Delia possibly even having the slightest bit of a crush on her at all. 

Patsy watched as Delia looked rather stunned, her body stiff, blinking her eyes, clearly shocked. 

‘Priyanka…’ Delia trailed off, clearly shocked, ‘I can’t believe… why are you even here?! Thought you were in Milan!’

‘Deal fell through,’ Priyanka shouted over the music, ‘Came back to get some work in.’ 

Not interested in intruding in Delia’s personal affairs any more than necessary, Patsy turned on her heel. She worked her way through the crowd before she exited the pub and made her way out onto the street. 

She shielded her eyes from the light, still rather bright this summer evening even though the sun hung low in the sky behind the buildings.

Patsy headed in the direction of the nearest  bus stop  she knew would take her closest to  home . As she walked, hands in her pockets and eyes  fixed forward, her brows knitted in concentration, she couldn’t help let the anxiety and discomfort bubble up in her chest at what had just happened. 

‘She’s not gay…’ Patsy trailed off, muttering to herself, ‘she’s not. There’s no way…’ 

She was admittedly a little tipsy. She recalled Valerie saying Delia had a  thing for redheads and mentioned some actors but she was a little fuzzy on the details. She had been drinking most of the day, after all. She could have misheard Valerie, actually. Right?’ 

‘I’m not so drunk that I’m hallucinating, am I?’ she asked herself out loud. 

‘No, just talking to yourself.’ 

Patsy gasped and twirled around on her toes, finding Delia standing directly behind her with her hands on her hips. Panting. It looked as if she had been running to catch up to her. 

‘Fucking ‘ell, Delia,’ Patsy grasped at her heart, willing it to dislodge from her throat and back into her chest. 

‘Sorry,’ Delia replied, taking a deep breath as she wiped the sweat from her brow, ‘I just… I don’t usually do that.’ 

Patsy was thoroughly confused. ‘Do what? Follow people from pubs?!’ 

‘Well no! I meant… kiss people.’ 

Patsy merely raised her eyebrow. 

‘Certainly not like that!’ Delia went on, a fierce blush flashing across her cheeks, ‘I was ambushed!’ 

Patsy felt a hot anger boil up in her chest. Delia seemed to take notice of the vexed look on her face. 

‘What? What's the matter,’ she asked. 

‘I just… wish you wouldn’t…’ Patsy sputtered, looking away. She felt frustrated with herself for not being able to come up with the words at the moment to relay how she felt. 

‘Wouldn’t what? Kiss other women?’ 

‘Well yes!’ 

‘What? Why?!' Delia looked very panicked, her face even turning more red. 

‘You… I just…’ Patsy grew hot in the face, her fists clenching. 

‘You what?’ 

‘It’s just… I hate it!’ Patsy was so flustered she struggled to get the words out. She knew she was  no sense but she was too upset to try.

'When I kiss other women?'

'No, when women kiss other women!' 

Delia blinked, stunned. ‘OK, I have no clue what the fuck you’re on about. Are you some kind of homophobe?!’

‘What?! No!’

‘Then why are you mad at me?!’

‘Because those are  _ our  _ spaces, Delia!’ 

‘Gay pubs?’

‘Yes! I mean, it’s fine if you want to go just like it’s any other pub, but don’t go around snogging other women when you’re not even gay.’

Delia huffed, looking as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘Excuse me?’

‘You straight women coming out and whatnot’ Patsy flailed her hands about, clearly frustrated with this whole situation and conversation, ‘for your hen parties or whatever and thoroughly confusing the fuck out of the rest of us-’

‘Hang on-’

‘Having a snog with your mates to get the attention of the men-’

‘Patsy, I would never-’ 

‘-using us for sexual  exploration or whatever-’

‘God damnit, Patsy! I’m gay!’ Delia shouted. 

The outburst stunned Patsy into silence. 

Delia flailed her hands, wildly gesturing to herself, ‘Big ol’ dyke, standing right in front of you. Have been the entire time!’ 

‘Oh…’ Patsy felt a hot blush crawl up her neck and settle into her cheeks and ears, timidly rubbing the back of her neck. ‘Really?’ 

‘Yes!’ Delia said exasperated, ‘Patsy, why else would I be covered in glitter and dancing with you in a gay pub at Pride?!’ 

Patsy shrugged, much too embarrassed to look Delia in the eye in this moment, ‘I guess… I don’t like to make assumptions…’ 

‘Don’t like to… Seriously? I’ve given you absolutely no indication of my sexuality in the last however many weeks!?’ 

‘I… it’s not like I’ve thought about it!’ She lied, ‘Although… Val may have mentioned it earlier.’ 

Delia growled in frustration as she smacked her hand against her forehead. 

‘Val even  _ told you _ I was gay and you still presumed I wasnt? Patsy,  _ you _ are supposed to be the smart one here!’ 

Patsy placed a hand on her hip and pointed an indignant finger in Delia’s direction, ‘Hey, just because I’m educated doesn’t mean I’m smart!’ 

‘Clearly!’

Patsy huffed, feeling supremely awkward about this entire conversation as she watched Delia turn around, take a few paces, and turn back. Her expression softened as she noted the look on Delia’s face. 

‘What is wrong with us?’ Delia quipped, looking at her worriedly. 

Patsy gulped, taken aback by the sincerity of the question, ‘How do you mean?’ 

‘It’s just… we’re friends right? We’ve been hanging out on a weekly basis for how long now and we’re just coming out to one another…’ 

Patsy gave a sad sigh and scratched her arm. When put  _ that _ way, she did feel rather guilty that she failed to notice this vitally important fact about Delia. 

‘ Dunno … suppose when you’re conditioned by society to keep your mouth shut about it…’ 

‘That’s the thing with me though, I’m… I’ve always been out. Since I realized it anyway. Everyone at work knows. My family knows. I’m just now realizing I’ve never said anything to you about it and… and I don’t know why,’ Delia finished, looking a little distressed. 

‘Look, I’m not offended,’ Patsy replied, ‘It’s a deeply personal thing for me, so that’s why I haven’t mentioned…’ 

‘Oh,’ Delia said thoughtfully, ‘well… I’m sorry to have dragged it out of you just then…’ 

‘It’s alright. It’s a relief, really. Feel like I can start to be more myself around you.’ 

Any anxiety about this whole conversation immediately evaporated for Patsy as she watched Delia smile bashfully at the admission and look down at her shoes, clearly touched. 

‘And I suppose you want someone around to talk to about your obsession with Gillian Anderson?’ she added with a smirk. 

Delia gasped, an expression of fake shock on her face, ‘Oh my god, who told you!’ 

‘Your loving flatmate, of course.’ 

‘Alright, I’ll admit it’s no secret I have a thing for her. She’s gorgeous but even I know when someone is unattainable.’ 

‘No harm in admiring from afar,' Patsy shrugged, feeling like she could relate.

‘Exactly.’ 

The two smiled at one another, looking away shyly when their gaze lingered for a moment too long. 

‘So why did this woman kiss you anyway?’ Patsy asked conversationally, feigning disinterest but deep down very very interested to know. 

‘Priyanka? Who knows,’ Delia waived her hand blithely, ‘God, I went on one terrible date with her.’ 

‘Did you?’ 

‘Fuck, I wouldn’t even call it that. I had to leave ten minutes in when I was called back to The London for a delivery and she was all pissy about it. Something about how both her parents are doctors and she couldn’t deal with being with someone who would up and leave like that.’ 

‘You’re serious?’ 

‘Yeah. Just ruined my chances with her right then and there,’ Delia replied, emphasizing her point by dragging her index finger across her neck. 

Patsy smirked, hoping she conveyed a look of disbelief even though she was rather relieved to hear this tidbit of information. 

‘She knew you were a doctor before she agreed to go out on a date with you right? Like, being called in every now and again is part of the job.' 

Delia shrugged. 

‘Do you…’ 

‘Hmm?’

‘I mean, seems like she’s willing to give you another chance…’

‘Patsy there's no way I would ever go out with her again.’ 

‘Why not? She’s,’ Patsy drunkenly hiccuped, ‘she’s a total babe.’

Delia burst out laughing, bending forward to place her hands on her knees. Patsy didn’t know whether or not to be offended. 

‘She’s a  _ what _ ?!’ Delia asked, a wide grin appearing on her face. 

‘What? What did I say?’ Patsy asked, feeling nervous all of a sudden. 

‘A  _ total babe _ .’

‘Alright.’ Patsy threw up her hands and mocked offense. 

‘Far out man, totally radical,’ Delia went on, holding her stomach as a fit of giggles overtook her. 

‘Enough of that now,’ Patsy huffed, feeling her cheeks turn red at the teasing. 

‘How long were you in America again?’ 

‘Long enough apparently,’ she replied, covering her mouth as she hiccuped again. 

‘Have you been drinking?’ Delia grinned, raising an eyebrow. Her dimples deepened and it made Patsy swoon just a little. 

‘Well, haven’t you been?’ she asked. 

‘I mean, I was about to when I got to the pub, but those plans were thwarted, weren't they?’

‘Hmm,’ Patsy nodded thoughtfully. 

‘So? Have you been? Drinking.’ 

‘I… well, just… it’s my Pride tradition,’ Patsy replied, trying to sound cool and collected. 

‘Uh huh,’ Delia smiled again, looking as if she were thoroughly enjoying witnessing Patsy in this state. 

‘Just a little vodka and sprite.’ 

‘A little, hmm?’ 

‘Itty bitty,’ Patsy closed one eye and brought her thumb and forefinger close together in front of her face. 

‘Itty bitty?’

‘Look, Val gives a bloody good home pour, I’ll give her that,’ she defaulted, ‘I will say I’m only seeing one of you right now so I know for a fact that I’m not too far gone.’ 

Delia looked at the ground again smiling, and raked her fingers through her hair. Patsy felt herself gulp down a sigh, feeling her heart flutter pleasantly in her chest at the sight. 

‘You hungry?’ 

Patsy raised one eyebrow. Come to think she did feel a little peckish. 

‘Feeling like something full of fat and salt is just what you need.’ 

‘What did you have in mind?’ Patsy asked, her mouth  suddenly  watering at the thought. 

‘Fish and chips?’ she shrugged with a hopeful smile, ‘’s always my go-to, anyway. There’s got to be a  chippy  around here somewhere.’ 

Patsy stuck her hands in her pockets and smirked. 

20 minutes later, Patsy found herself sitting on the curb  down from The Black Sail , happily munching on some hot chips from a greasy paper wrapper as Delia did the same beside her. They ate in silence as they watched  the colourfully dressed people around them dashing off to  the next party or gathering as the sun set low in the sky. 

‘Sorry we missed out on that dance,’ Delia said quietly, breaking the silence after they had both finished eating. 

‘Oh yeah?’ 

‘Yeah, I mean…’ Delia looked away and shrugged, a shy smirk playing at her lips, ‘it was fun while it lasted. Sorry Priyanka had to come and interrupt.’ 

Patsy felt her heart fill with hope. 'She a good kisser at least?' she asked earnestly, earning her a smirk from Delia. 

'She kisses like an arrogant snob, so no,’ Delia huffed, mumbling, ‘entitled bitch.’ 

Patsy rose from her spot and offered her hand to Delia, who took it. She brought the smaller woman to a standing position and they walked the few paces to throw their rubbish in the bin. 

Patsy looked up and closed her eyes, listening. She could hear the thumping bass of dance music all around her from one pub or another. ‘Delia, there’s music playing from everywhere.’ 

‘And?’ 

‘We can continue that dance right here.'

‘You really are drunk, aren't you,’ Delia replied skeptically. 

Patsy was still tipsy enough to not care about the consequences. ‘Do you want to dance or not?’ she asked. 

‘I wouldn’t take you for the dancing in the street type.’ 

Patsy blinked, ‘Whyever not?’ 

‘Just doesn’t seem like something you would do, is all. You seem too reserved for it.’ 

‘I have my reasons,' Patsy replied, rocking on her heels. 

‘Such as? And don’t say you’re drunk, I can see you don’t have that glassy look in your eyes anymore,' Delia squinted and wagged a finger at the taller woman. 

Patsy bit her lip thinking Delia was right. She wouldn’t typically be dancing in the street with… well, anyone. But it  _ was  _ Pride after all, and she was feeling a mixture of just not caring what the random passerby might think of her, and simply wanting to impress a girl she fancied. To deflect from admitting her true feelings, she said something silly instead. 

‘To show off my sweet moves, of course,' she replied, checking her nails indifferently.

Delia let out a laugh. ‘OK, that’s one reason. What else?’ 

Before she could answer, a gaggle of giggling women walked by, one of them reaching out and pinched Patsy on the bum. 

‘Ooh!’ Patsy exclaimed. She placed both hands on her bum as she looked over to the group of women walking away from her, one of them looking back at her and  wolf-whistling . 

‘Did… did s he  just pinch your bum?!’ Delia asked, her eyes darting from Patsy to the group of girls, who were now rounding the corner and out of sight. 

Patsy couldn't help but let out a laugh. ‘I suppose that's another reason to dance in the street!' 

Delia's cheeks turned rather pink in what Patsy could only construe as jealousy .  Delia bristled and  seemed  at a loss for words. 

‘What?’ Patsy smiled teasingly.

‘Ooh, I just think… Just because its Pride doesn't mean people can go kissing or pinching bums as they please, is all!’ 

Patsy tisked, ‘Now you're the one who sounds like they need to be a little less reserved.'

'Just don't know why it's so hard for people to just  _ ask _ someone if they'd like a kiss or pinch on the bum.'

Patsy considered her words for a moment, thinking she had a point,  and held out her hand. 

'Would you like to dance?' 

Delia looked at Patsy's outstretched hand for a moment before she took it. 

'Thank you for asking.'

Patsy smiled and slowly guided Delia to twirl around before she pushed her out and snapped her back again, resting a hand on her hip. Delia was smiling shyly the entire time, her cheeks rather pink as she allowed herself to be tossed around in the middle of the street. They swayed to the music that was blasting from somewhere. Patsy could see Delia was still feeling terribly shy about all this, her body was tense and  eyes cast downward. 

Patsy let go and bumped her hips against Delia’s, and that seemed to get the girl moving. She watched as Delia finally relented and did some fancy footwork, giving a laugh as Delia  shimmied her shoulders  and twirled on her toes. 

‘There you go,’ Patsy smiled, moving along with her. 

‘Ugh, you’re good at dancing too,’ Delia bemoaned as she wiggled her hips. 

‘Is that bad?’ Patsy asked, trying not to sound too distracted as she  watched  Delia’s bum. 

Delia twirled around to face Patsy. ‘It’s annoying.’

‘Why?’ 

Instead of answering, Delia wiggled her nose and rolled her eyes, a motion that Patsy found mystifying and intriguing.

‘You’re just good at everything,’ Delia finally admitted. 

‘Hardly.’ 

‘No, really. You're a smarty-pants who can dance and play music and you seem like a sane adult with their shit together. How are you single?' 

Patsy didn't want to answer, not wanting to dredge up all the drama and pain of her last relationship. Instead, she took Delia in her arms again and swayed, deflecting once again. 

'How are  _ you  _ single?' she asked. 

Delia gave a playful pout as she reached up and placed her hand on Patsy's shoulder, 'It's complicated.'

Patsy gave a sympathetic smile, her eyes following the sway of Delia's long brown hair as it fell over her shoulders.

'Yeah. Same.'

Delia gave a thoughtful hum as she considered Patsy's reply. 

'Well, if you won't tell me how you're single you could at least humor me with your gay secrets.'

Patsy gave a laugh. 'Gay secrets?' 

'Certainly,' Delia shrugged, 'Any celebrity crushes? You know I have a thing for Gillian, but what about you?' 

Patsy looked up in thought, never really having a celebrity crush, even as she was growing up. The only one she could think of might be too obvious. 

But what did she care? She was tipsy and this was Pride. 

‘So long as you can keep a secret?’ 

‘It’ll stay safe with me, Pats, now spill.’ 

'Well,' Patsy said softly, leaning close as if dishing out a bit of juicy gossip, 'I've always had a thing for Lily Allen.'

'Lily Allen?' Delia repeated, her eyebrows raising. 

'Oh, yes. Very cute.'

Patsy could feel Delia move and inch closer to her and felt all the nerve endings under her skin prickle to life. 

'That so?' Delia grinned.

Patsy found it rather maddening the physical reaction she was having, knowing nothing would ever come of it and she needed to get over her feelings. Though, with those big blue eyes looking up at her, and that gorgeous smile making her heart flutter, she couldn't help herself. 

'Great smile,' she went on, dreamily. 

'Uh huh,' Delia replied. She was beginning to look just as captivated as Patsy felt.

'Beautiful voice.'

'Hmm,' Delia narrowed her eyes and gave a knowing smirk. 

'I just find her very, very charming.' 

'Well when you put it that way I can definitely see the appeal.'

The whole world around them seemed to phase out for Patsy. She was in a blissful state, holding Delia in her arms. The only thing that would make this moment even more perfect is if she could kiss her. 

'Oh my  _ god _ , you two are  _ so  _ cute together.'

Both Patsy and Delia turned their heads towards the stranger  who’d interrupted them. They spotted a group of gay men walking by, admiring them. 

'They’re totally gonna have sex tonight,' said another as they passed. 

'Get it, girl!' another said, giving their fingers an encouraging snap. 

Well that certainly broke whatever spell they had been under. 

Patsy and Delia jumped apart at once and looked in opposite directions as the group of men walked off giggling. 

Patsy could feel herself blush profusely as her chest filled with anxiety and panic. She couldn't believe she had just been about to kiss Delia!  _ Delia _ ?! Of all the people! 

'Well, that was…' Patsy tried to find something to say to relieve the tension but couldn't think straight. 

'I'm just gonna…' Delia backed away slowly and pointed a thumb over her shoulder. 

'Right.' Patsy nodded, not knowing what Delia was going to say, but completely understanding  the impulse  to run away right now. 

'The pub… Valerie…' Delia went on, apparently  incapable of completing a sentence. 

'Yeah, alright,' Patsy nodded, not sure what to do with her hands so she just stuck them in her pocket. 'Um, enjoy that drink!' she said feebly. 

'Ah, yeah,' Delia smiled as she began to walk in the direction of the pub, 'See you tomorrow?' 

'Yup!' Patsy gave a wave, walking backwards. She didn't know where she was headed, but so long as it was in the opposite direction of the pub she didn't care where she ended up. 

With Delia rounding a corner and out of sight, Patsy turned on her heel and promptly bashed into a  lamppost . 

'Bloody  _ fuckin _ hell,' she swore as she took a step back, clutching her painfully throbbing cheek. She slowly sank to the ground and sat on the curb, holding her cheek and wondering just how her day had gone downhill so quickly. 

Although she was in pain, panicked, and a little confused by Delia's behavior… alright, her own behavior, too… she was comforted slightly by the fact that Delia still wanted to see her tomorrow. So… that was good, yes? 

Patsy's phone chimed a few times in quick succession. She pulled it from her pocket and saw she had a few texts from Vanessa. 

**So?**

**What's good?**

**You bang yet?**

Patsy glared spitefully at her phone, then the  lamppost , the irony of it all not escaping her. She replied by sending Vanessa a selfie, looking quite cross and giving her the finger. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patsy has gone home to pluck the pedals off a flower asking 'does she like me? like me not?' while Delia tries to find the answers to her problems at the bottom of a pint glass. Only their angst is more fabulous as they're both covered in glitter.


	9. Shoplifters of the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unite and take over
> 
> Oh, shoplifters of the world
> 
> Unite and take over

Delia cracked open an eye at the sound of the front door to her flat slamming shut. Valerie must have been up and mucking about, but did she have to do it so bloody early on a Saturday? She tried to ignore the  morning light filtering in through the curtains by rolling over, covering her head with a pillow. She was about to drift back off to sleep when her phone chimed. She ignored it. Then it chimed again. And again. 

Delia groaned in annoyance, her arm flailing out wildly to reach for her phone. She bashed her hand on the nightstand a few times, knocking over books and pens and jewelry and other various things, which clamored noisily to the floor and rolled in every way, before she located the device, yanking it from the charger and bringing it close to her face to see what all the fuss was about. 

Her phone was still pinging, lit with a myriad of texts and messages from her various social media accounts, all proclaiming well wishes, gifs of confetti and cute animals in hats doing silly dances. 

‘Oh  _ shit _ ,’ Delia mumbled, her heart sinking to her stomach with dread. ‘It’s my birthday.’ 

Delia rolled onto her back, her arm over her eyes as the phone in her hand kept chiming and she was reminded, sadly, that her 20’s were officially over. She hadn’t been looking forward to this one, no, and it was almost easy to forget. She had had so many birthdays already, it seemed, and they just started blending together. This one was nothing special. 

Her phone ringing made Delia’s heart lodge in her throat, and she quickly looked, relieved to see that it was just her parents… facetiming at 9am, she thought with a twinge of annoyance. 

‘Hel-’

‘ _ Happy birthday to you _ ,’ Delia’s parents sang sweetly and over enthused. Deila closed her eyes and waited for it to be over. ‘ _ Happy birthday to you! Happy BIRTH-DAY dear Delia… Happy birthday to youuuuu! _ ’ 

There was a beat of silence when they finished, as Delia never knew what to say after having Happy Birthday sung to her. She was also still half asleep and processing that it was morning,  that  this was real, and she was now a 30 year old whose parents still rang to sing her happy birthday over the phone. 

‘She there?’ Delia’s mother asked, looking annoyed at the phone, ‘Delia! Hello!?’ 

‘Did the call drop?’ her father asked. He pushed Enid over so all Delia could see were his curious eyes and up his nose. 

‘Yes, hi!’ Delia finally replied. ‘Morning Mam and Da.’ 

‘Penblwydd hapus i ti!’ Delia’s father called out in Welsh. 

‘Diolch,’ Delia replied automatically, rubbing the sleep out of her eye. 

She blinked and noted the hat on her fathers head. A faded ballcap with the old ‘Para-Mount’ logo on the front. 

Delia curled her lip in disgust at the sight. 

Her father Edwin had been a driver for the supply chain company for twenty-some-odd years before the whole company went under a year ago. Delia was fuzzy on the details, but she knew it was the CEO’s malfeasance that did it; and the bastard took her fathers and the thousands of other workers pensions with him. Her family managed alright after the news broke, able to live off some private savings and her mother's pension, but her father needed to find part time work so their savings didn’t dry up too fast. The thought of her father working so diligently, nearly quarter of a century, for some company that took what was rightly due to him and squandered by some greedy little twat left a very poor taste in her mouth. 

‘Da, why are you wearing that cap?’ she seethed. ‘Should burn the thing after what they did to your pension.’ 

‘Oh, sweetheart, it’s alright, no need to make a fuss. Besides, I like this cap.’ Edwin reached up and adjusted the cap more snug on his head, ‘think it fits me just fine.’ 

‘But that company-’ 

‘Have any plans for your special day, love?’ Enid pressed on, eager to change the subject. 

‘Um…’ Delia closed her eyes, thinking hard. She vaguely remembered sitting in the breakroom in the clinic being asked the same thing by Trixie barely a week ago. 

‘Well you have to do something!’ the blonde nurse chastised, stabbing the cherry tomato in her salad with a plastic fork. ‘For goodness sake, Delia, this is a momentous occasion!’ 

‘Oh, you know what would be good? A whiskey party.’ Lucille added, ‘Lots of people do that for their 30th.’ 

‘Surely there are other themes,’ Trixie replied, unamused. 

‘Why does there have to be a theme anyway? Can’t we just hang out and have cake?’ Barbara chimed in.

‘Oh, come on Barbara, it’s not really a party unless everyone's getting sloshed,’ Valerie replied. 

‘We can do that and have cake, too,’ Barbara added quietly. 

‘Still don’t see the need for a party,’ Delia grumbled. 

‘Nonsense. We should do a little something at least. Something to mark and celebrate your newfound adulthood,’ Trixie tapped her fork against her chin, looking up in thought. 

Delia raised an eyebrow and narrowed her eyes at the woman. ‘Newfo… Trixie, I’m already an adult!’ 

‘Come on Deels,’ Valerie leaned in, her voice lowering, ‘Throw a whiskey party! Then everyone attending will  _ have  _ to bring a bottle to share. We’d be set with free whiskey ‘til your next birthday probably.’ 

‘First, no,’ Delia replied, raising a stern finger in the air, ‘not interested in having any kind of party whatsoever, whiskey themed or otherwise. And second, even if I did, what, are  _ you  _ going to host?’ 

‘Maybe,’ Valerie replied, not at all convincingly. 

‘In our tiny flat?’ 

‘It can be done,’ Valerie shrugged. 

‘You’re going to actually clean?’ Delia narrowed her eyes and glared skeptically at the brunette, who suddenly looked clammy. ‘Decorate? Prepare food?’ 

‘...could get it catered.’ Valerie mumbled. 

‘Oh, Delia, stop being such a wet blanket about this!’ Trixie interjected. ‘I’m sure we can find appropriate accommodations for your birthday party.’ 

‘Oh, you’re offering to host?’ Valerie asked hopefully. 

Trixie merely laughed as she shoved a forkful of lettuce into her mouth. Behind her, Delia noted Patsy’s arrival . The redhead immediately locked eyes with her, giving her a friendly smile as she paused to grab her lunch.

‘What about Patsy?’ Barbara asked. 

‘What  _ about  _ Patsy?’ Patsy asked, her head appearing from behind the  fridge door. 

Trixie turned around in her chair and regarded the doctor curiously. ‘Yes, Patsy, where  _ do _ you live?’ she asked. 

Valerie gasped, ‘Patsy lives in a house!’

All eyes but Delia’s turned to Patsy. 

‘Really?’ Lucille asked. ‘Like a proper house?’ 

Patsy shrugged, ‘Suppose so?’

‘Garden and everything?’ Barbara added. 

Patsy slowly nodded, looking very unsure of what she was getting herself into. 

‘Patsy! You’ve been here how long and haven’t had a housewarming party?!’ Trixie exclaimed, looking personally offended. She crossed her arms and added with a finality in her tone, ‘Well that settles that.’ 

‘I’m sorry, what?’ Patsy asked, looking around the room for any hint as to what they were discussing. 

‘We’ll have a conjoined housewarming and birthday party. That way all the attention isn’t on you, Delia.’ 

‘Ooh, splendid!’ Barbara clasped her hands approvingly. ‘I can’t wait!’ 

‘I do love a party,’ Lucille agreed. 

‘Just for the record… I hate this idea.’ Delia grumbled.

‘Wait, what’s happening?’ Patsy asked, looking around more frantically. 

‘Ok, Delia, now Patsy has so graciously offered to host, you  _ have  _ to think of a theme.’ Trixie insisted, resting a hand on Delia’s arm. 

‘What is this?’ Delia asked the room, thoroughly annoyed, ‘ A kids party?! No theme! Just show up!’ 

‘With whiskey,’ Valerie added.

‘It’s your birthday?’ Patsy asked, looking to Delia. The brunette merely turned red in the face and slouched in her chair. 

‘Oh,  _ shit _ ,’ Valerie swore through gritted teeth, banging her closed fist against the table. ‘This means I have to get two gifts now, doesn’t it?’ 

Back in the present, in bed on the phone with her parents shooting off a myriad of questions about all she had planned, Delia reached for any excuse to get off the phone with her parents and move on with her day. 

‘I better get cracking,’ she began, sitting up and  stretching . ‘A  colleague and I have been cajoled into throwing a little thing this evening and I’ve agreed to go over and help prepare.’ 

‘What thing?’ 

‘A housewarming for them… and a birthday party for me, unfortunately.’ 

‘Listen cariad,’ Delia’s father Ed said sweetly, ‘it does you no good to be down in the dumps for turning another year older.’ 

‘Uh huh,’ Delia replied, not at all convinced. She walked over to her windows and opened the curtains. 

‘You’ve got two options dear,’ Enid chimed in, ‘you can be 30... or you can be dead!’ 

Delia rolled her eyes, ‘Oh, wow, yeah, gee thanks Mam for those enlightening words of wisdom.’ 

‘Are you seeing anyone yet, darling?’ her mother pressed on.

‘Bye!’ 

Delia forcefully hung up and threw her phone on the bed. She certainly didn’t feel 30 when talking to her mother. A loving mother who supported her, certainly, but always made her feel like a child no matter how many birthdays passed. The woman made Delia feel like she needed to excel at everything in her life. Delia knew enough to not let the woman get to her as much as she did when she was a kid, but her  digs  still stung. Why was she single? Why didn’t she stay in Wales? Why didn’t she work at a fancier hospital? Why didn’t she live in a fancier flat?

Delia, for the most part, felt lucky for  gaining  the hand in life that she did. She felt proud of everything she had accomplished, about how she lived, her job.... Until she didn’t. It was usually her mother who would diminish any confidence she had. The only other person in Delia’s life who made her feel even marginally insignificant was the tall redhead who had recently come back into her life. The more she got to know Patsy the more she felt she could get over what the woman had done to her in the past .  There was just still that twinge of pain, of resentment and hatred that lingered in Delia’s subconscious that kept Delia from feeling like she could  _ truly _ get over what had happened between them all those years ago, and just  _ be friends _ with the woman. It was something Delia struggled with, wondering if she was feeling resentment towards Patsy, or jealousy because she thought the woman was so beautiful and charismatic and smart. It made her wonder why the woman gave her  the time of day outside of work. 

Delia shook her head, willing away  the negative thoughts. No need to dwell on that now, they needed to work together to put on some kind of party  this evening . It was the last thing Delia wanted to do, but even she knew herself well enough to admit she was a bit of a pushover. 

Delia undressed and threw on a dressing gown. She headed towards the bathroom, where she was promptly met  by Valerie rushing to the door. The taller woman placed one hand on the doorknob and the other on her hip, effectively blocking Delia from entering the one bathroom in the flat. She was still dressed in her sports bra and running shorts, looking a little pink in the cheeks  presumably having just finished working out. 

‘Val,’ Delia began, tapping her foot against the hardwood, ‘I need to get ready for today.’ 

‘So early?’ Valerie asked casually. 

Delia huffed. ‘I’m going over to Patsy’s to help set up and I need a shower.’ 

‘Can I get in first? Just got back from a run. Did 8 miles,’ Valerie said casually, looking at her fingernails. Delia narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. 

‘What does that matter? Why do you need to shower first?’ 

‘I’m meeting Lou for brunch before we make our way over to Patsy’s later.’ 

‘Right, well could you hurry?’ 

‘Yeah, just need to take care of something first,’ Valerie replied, pointing a thumb over her shoulder towards her bedroom, ‘then I’ll hop in. Shouldn’t take long.’ 

Delia huffed, rolling her eyes. She was hungry anyway and reasoned she could have a bit of breakfast first. She stalked off to the kitchen where she made herself a cup of coffee and some toast, spending the better part of  an hour eating and replying to all the texts and messages she had received that morning wishing her a happy birthday. 

She noted that she had  _ not  _ received a message from Patsy. Not that she wanted one. Not really… would be nice if she had sent one but she wasn’t expecting her to… then again they were  _ technically  _ friends, so it wouldn’t be unreasonable of Delia to expect one from her… 

Delia went back through her texts and messages on her social media platforms, scanning thoroughly, her eyes narrowing so she could read the small text. Why  _ didn’t  _ she see a text from Patsy wishing her happy birthday? Did she forget? Was Patsy still sleeping and just hadn’t gotten around to it yet? Did she remember and just didn’t want to?! Did Patsy really secretly hate her?! 

Delia blinked and shook her head. 

‘Jesus, Delia, don’t pull any muscles leaping to conclusions,’ she mumbled to herself. 

She looked at the clock and was shocked to see it was nearly 10am . How long had she been sitting there? Had Valerie even taken her shower? She thought for a moment and realized she  hadn’t heard the water turn on. 

Thinking Valerie had either showered by now or just forgotten, Delia went back to the bathroom, but was thwarted again when Valerie came out of her room and ran towards the bathroom, blocking the entrance. 

‘Val, what the fuck?’ Delia exclaimed, exasperated. 

‘I haven’t showered yet,’ Valerie said simply. 

‘Why the hell not? Val, I need to get in there!’ 

‘Let me shower first!’ 

‘No! You had your chance!’ 

Delia ducked and tried to stealth reach behind Valerie for the doorknob, but Valerie fell against the door with a bang, her arms and legs spread out. 

‘Val!’ Delia cried, annoyed. 'I thought you were meeting Lucille for brunch?!’

‘Still am! Just got distracted!’ 

‘With what!?’ 

There was a long, unwavering pause where the two women remained still and unblinking. 

‘Minecraft.’ 

‘Mine… Valerie, have you been playing a bloody video game this entire time! I have shit to do! Get out of the way!’ 

‘No!’ Valerie thwarted Delia’s attempt to reach for the doorknob, blocking it with her hip. ‘You know how I get sucked into that game!’ 

‘Tough! Move it!’

‘No!’ 

‘Val, seriously! I’ll be, like, five minutes!’ 

‘Lies!’ Valerie hissed. ‘You always take too long and use up all the hot water!’ 

‘Will not!’ 

‘And you always leave clumps of your hair stuck to the tile.’ 

Delia gasped, wide eyed and affronted. 

‘It’s  _ disgusting _ .’ Valerie seethed, looking at Delia like the Welsh woman had something to be ashamed of. 

‘Oh, you think  _ that's  _ disgusting?!’ Delia retorted,  pointing an accusing finger in Valerie’s face , ‘at least I don’t blow my nose in there and leave all my bogies on the wall!’ 

‘Surprised you ever notice my bogies through all that hair you  leave on the wall !’ 

‘Let me in the bathroom, Valerie!’ Delia stamped her foot, her fists clenched at her sides. 

Delia lunged forward, her hand out, reaching for the doorknob, and she was again blocked by Valerie's midsection. 

‘No!’ 

‘Val, get out of the way!’ 

‘No, Delia, you’re not getting in first this time!’ 

‘Like hell I will!’ Delia replied, thrusting her shoulder and weight into Valerie's side, hoping to force the woman out of the way. 

‘No.. you… don’t…’ Valerie said through gritted teeth, using all her might to push Delia away. 

Delia relented and took a few steps back, watching  wide-eyed  as Valerie pulled down her shorts and knickers. 

'Val what are you-'

Delia was stunned to silence as Valerie proceeded to rub her bare arse on the doorknob. 

‘You still want to go first?!' she shouted over the sound of  Delia’s horrified screams . 

* * *

‘And that’s why I’m late.’ Delia said tiredly.

‘Wow.’ Patsy replied simply. She blinked slowly and her jaw hung slack slightly. The woman looked completely gobsmacked at the absurdity of Delia’s story. 

The two women were sat in Patsy's kitchen,  surrounded by glasses, plates, tablecloths and silverware and other such things Patsy had set out in preparation for the impending gathering that  had been thrust upon her just as much as Delia. 

While still  pissed off by what had happened with Valerie this morning, Delia’s mood lightened significantly the moment Patsy opened the door. She had been met with the sight of Patsy holding  the last of the decorations she had been putting up around the house. Seemed Patsy had gone  to the trouble of decorating with brightly colored streamers, which she had hung from the light fixtures and around the doors. While not excited about celebrating her birthday, Delia certainly appreciated the gesture. What made Delia feel even better was when she was able to unload her feelings about what  had  happened that morning onto Patsy as she unloaded her groceries onto her counter. 

‘Yeah,’ Delia sighed, pulling out a bottle of white wine and  popping the cork, ‘Sorry, I know it’s early but I really need a glass.’ 

‘No, by all means,’ Patsy said, handing Delia a clean glass, ‘surprised you don’t go for something stronger with the morning you’ve had.’ 

‘Well, honestly I would but we’ve got some work to do.’ 

‘Do we?’ 

Delia took a sip of her wine and nodded. She reached into her mesh bag and placed the contents of it on the table; a large carton of eggs, a package of minced beef, pork sausages, two types of flour and a large bottle of olive oil. 

‘Here,’ Delia unceremoniously tossed the empty bag to Patsy who caught it with both hands, ‘need to go out into the garden and collect some vegetables.’ 

‘Really?’ Patsy looked rather surprised. 

‘Yes,’ Delia pointed an assertive finger towards the door, ‘now move your bum.’ 

‘Yes ma’am!’ 

Wine in hand, Delia followed Patsy to the back garden. There were several raised beds now along the perimeter of Patsy’s garden. With it being the dead of summer, many were bursting with leafy greens, ready for the picking. Delia instructed Patsy to pick out some carrots, celery, and onion. 

‘What are we making anyway?’ Patsy asked, looking from the contents of her bag to Delia curiously. 

‘Ragu.’ Delia said simply, finishing off the last of her wine, ‘I usually reserve that for the winter because it’s warm and hearty, but I need some comfort food today.’ 

‘Sure, it’s your birthday. We should have whatever you want…’ Patsy trailed off, looking nervous. 

‘But?’

‘But nothing.’ 

‘No you look like you have a but there.’ Delia narrowed her eyes at Patsy, her gaze boring into the fidgeting woman until she finally cracked. 

‘I feel terribly silly.’ Patsy finally said. 

‘What is it? Out with it Pats.’

‘I’m not quite sure what ragu is,’ she admitted shyly.

Delia shrugged. ‘Fancy meat sauce with homemade pasta.’ 

‘Homemade pasta?’ 

‘’S right,’ Delia said, giving a wink and pointing a finger in Patsy's direction, ‘and you’re going to make it.’ 

Patsy gulped and nervously tugged at her shirt. 

Back in the kitchen, more wine was had, and together the two scrubbed their veggies and diced them per  Delia’s instructions . 

‘Goodness,’ Patsy sniffed over her pile of chopped onions, blinking back tears, ‘been a minute since a girl made me cry like this.’ 

‘Oh stop,’ Delia chastised over her pile of celery and carrots. Patsy continued to make a fuss about crying while chopping onions, and Delia was glad the woman wasn’t able to see her smile or cheeks turn pink. The thought of some past girlfriend doing Patsy wrong made Delia feel a flash of something in her chest. She didn’t want to admit it was jealousy, but she knew it was. Along with something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Something that made her want to protect Patsy from those who may have slighted her in the past. 

It bothered Delia greatly, and she pushed the feeling back down,  taking another healthy sip of wine. She looked back up at Patsy curiously,  just enough Dutch courage in her system to  broach this subject. 

‘So, just wondering,’ Delia shrugged casually as she continued to dice carrots, ‘since you’ve been back, any… you know, romantic prospects?’ 

‘Oh, god,’ Patsy laughed, ‘please don’t make me talk about my love life.’

‘So, what, they’re all terrible, or…?’ 

‘Nonexistent. Not that I’m complaining. Haven’t even tried.’ 

‘What? Why not? Surely there's-’ 

‘I just…’ Patsy shook her head and put down her knife, bringing her shoulder to her eye to wipe her tears on her sleeve. ‘Sorry, I guess I’m still trying to find my footing, you know? Being back here.’ 

Delia immediately thought she had crossed a line. Patsy looked as if she sensed Delia’s nerves. 

‘Sorry I don’t want you to think I mind talking about it,’ Patsy said, refilling Delia’s glass. ‘The last relationship I was in wasn’t a good one, so I’m just trying to take my time.’ 

Delia nodded silently as Patsy smiled back at her. She quietly sipped her wine even though her mind was just burning with questions. There was so much about Patsy that Delia didn't know and it seemed like every little glimpse into her life that Patsy revealed made Delia only want to bombard the woman with questions, but she didn’t want to scare her away. 

‘So, I take it you’re not dating anyone either?’ Patsy said conversationally as she washed her hands in the sink. 

‘What makes you say that?’ 

Patsy shrugged. ‘Figure you wouldn’t be hanging around here as much if you were.’ 

Delia huffed indignantly, ‘I date.’ 

Patsy merely raised an eyebrow as she dried her hands  with a towel.

‘I go on dates!’ Delia reiterated, placing her knife down and hands on her hips. ‘Loads of ‘em. Have to beat the ladies away with a stick.’ 

‘Oh, I totally believe you,’ Patsy replied  sarcastically . 

Delia swatted at Patsy with her tea towel. ‘Go get the olive oil, you dickhead.’ 

With a smirk, Patsy retrieved said bottle of oil and handed it to Delia, who had turned the burner on the stovetop. 

‘OK, ragu lesson one…. Or just general cooking tip, really… you want to heat the  stockpot  before you add the oil,’ Delia instructed, ‘so the food doesn’t stick.’ 

‘Really? Didn’t know that.’ 

‘Oh yes. Here.’ Delia wet her hand in the sink and flicked the water in the pan. The water sizzled and evaporated immediately. ‘Perfect. Now pour enough of that in the pot to cover the bottom.’ 

Patsy hesitated slightly before she poured. ‘We really need that much?’ 

‘Wouldn't be sofrito without it.’ Delia shrugged. 

Patsy did as instructed as Delia watched on. 

‘What is sofrito anyway?’ Patsy asked. 

‘Base for the sauce. But we’ll need to let this simmer for the better part of an hour before we can add the tomato sauce.’ 

‘What shall we do in the meantime?’ 

‘Drink more wine. And make the pasta. But first, the meats.’

Delia first added the beef, letting it brown before she removed it, and made Patsy help her remove the pork from the sausage skins, squeezing every last bit out and into the pan, letting it brown before removing that, too. She instructed Patsy to pour in more oil and their diced vegetables, the sound of sizzling filling the house, along with a delicious smell.

‘Alright, let’s get cracking on the pasta,’ Delia said. 

‘I’m very curious to see how pasta is made,’ Patsy admitted. 

‘You don't know?’

‘No? I only know that it comes in a bag or a box from the store.’

Delia retrieved the  box  of eggs and two bags of flour she had brought, setting it all down on the kitchen counter and giving a bag a confident pat. ‘This is it, you know. All you need.’ 

‘Flour and eggs?’ Patsy looked mystified. 

‘And a bit of time. Here, I’ll show you.’ 

Delia had Patsy  crack  several eggs into a small mountain of flour on the counter and whisking everything together with a fork in no time. 

‘Not too fast now, with the whisking,’ Delia instructed, ‘Take your time and add a bit of flour with each whisk.’ 

Patsy continued to do as told, looking  focused but entertained. 

‘Delia, how do you know so much about this?’ she asked. 

‘Making pasta?’ 

‘Food. In general. Cooking. Gardening, too,’ Patsy went on, ‘Cooking with you  leaves me stunned at how much I don’t know…’ 

Delia shrugged, swirling her wine. ‘I just really enjoy it. To spend time working on creating something and then to be able to share it with others in the form of something tasty.’ 

‘I’m starting to see the appeal, though I hope I don’t go and muck it all up somehow. Would hate to ruin your birthday dinner.’ 

‘If you make a bad portion we can give it all to Valerie,’ Delia joked. 

Patsy smirked and shook her head sadly. ‘Can’t believe she did that.’ 

‘I can. She’s a great friend, but horrible flatmate,’ Delia scoffed, ‘always leaving me to do the cleaning up, dishes, tidying. She’s a slob too. I’m terrified to peek in her room to see the state of it but I can imagine.’ 

‘Well why bother picking up after her?’ Patsy asked seriously. 

‘It won’t get done if I don’t do it, plain and simple,’ Delia replied, reaching for the wine, ‘and if I mention anything we bicker and it all makes me feel like a nag. She makes me feel like… my mother.’

Delia gave a disgusted shiver as she topped off her wine glass again, though she couldn’t help but notice Patsy breath through her nose as her whisking of the flour and egg sped up. 

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to turn this into bashing on Val hour.’ 

‘You shouldn’t waste your time on anyone who treats you like shit,’ Patsy said firmly. It was enough to make Delia pause and really look at Patsy. 

After a moment, Patsy halted her motions and blinked. She returned to slowly and rhythmically wisking as she cleared her throat. 

‘I see the irony with that coming from the likes of me…’ 

Delia looked at Patsy, noting that she was hyper focused on her task on the  counter , avoiding her eye. Her brow was  furrowed , her cheeks pink, jaw tight. She seemed embarrassed, ashamed.

The sight made Delia’s heart sink to the pit of her stomach. It seemed Patsy was harbouring shame for her past behavior just as Delia was holding onto the resentment she felt for it. 

Delia sighed. She didn’t know if she forgave Patsy. Didn’t know if she even had it in her to forgive her, but she needed to at least try. She was tired of feeling this way. She wanted to move on. 

‘Patsy,’ she began, catching Patsy's attention, ‘...my time has never been  _ wasted  _ on you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be...’ 

Delia looked up at her with half a smile, and, after a moment, Patsy gave an understanding nod. 

‘Think you’re ready to knead the dough now.’ 

Delia rose from her seat and stood by Patsy, sipping her wine as she directed the woman how to knead a ball of dough until it sprung back at her touch. Flour was sprinkled all over as Delia produced a long rolling pin from one of her bags, to Patsy's amazement. They took turns between rolling out the dough and sipping wine, sprinkling more flour until the room was filled with hazy white clouds. Delia folded the dough and cut it into strands, scooping them up and letting them dangle between her fingers. 

‘Just fascinating,’ Patsy marveled, holding up a strand of pasta and examining it with wonder in her eyes, ‘we’ve actually made this?’ 

‘You made it,’ Delia corrected kindly. 

‘It just seems so simple. Can’t believe I never knew how to do this before.’ 

‘Everyone thinks making pasta is so difficult when it’s all about taking your time.’ Delia shrugged. 

‘Just like with gardening, I’m beginning to find,’ Patsy said with a small smile. ‘It is rather pleasant to see the results of our work.’ 

‘Indeed,’ Delia replied, popping an olive into her mouth, ‘and now we get to taste those results by throwing a huge party neither of us wanted.’ 

Patsy narrowed her eyes suspiciously, ‘I think deep down you’re actually enjoying this.’ 

Delia avoided answering her and turned on her heel. ‘Next lesson!’  she exclaimed, finding the largest pot Patsy had, and filled it with water before putting it on the burner. 

‘Now, when seasoning the water,’ Delia began, ‘you want to be very liberal with your salt.’ 

‘Why?’

‘Because when you drain your pasta most of that salt is going to go down the  sink with the water. Here,’ Delia said, pouring a generous amount of salt into the pot. She gave it a swirl with a wooden spoon before bringing it to her lips, having a taste. ‘You want it to taste like warm sea water, that way the pasta will be properly seasoned.’ 

Without thinking Delia brought the spoon to Patsy's mouth to taste. She didn’t even realize she had done it until Patsy was humming her approval, and she looked away feeling warm, a little overwhelmed that that had felt like the most natural thing to do. 

‘Um,’ Delia stuttered, turning quickly back to the water, ‘go ahead and lower in the pasta. Should only take a few minutes.’ 

She gave the ragu a stir as Patsy did just that, willing her frantically beating heart to calm down.

‘How long do you think we should leave it for?’ 

‘A few minutes. How about you throw together a salad and I’ll make up a fancy cheese plate? she replied nervously. 

‘Sounds good.’ 

Much to Delia’s annoyance, Patsy had made the salad  _ and _ cleared the table in the time it took her to put together some fancy cheeses and meats. She wondered if the woman was always so bloody efficient. 

Delia finished slicing up a baguette just about when the  pasta was  done, and she added the meats back in and mixed them in with the sofrito.

‘Patsy, come here and try this’ she called, fishing out a  strand  covered in sauce. 

Patsy returned and Delia noted with amusement that the woman was covered in flour. She held out the wooden spoon and watched as Patsy took the  pasta they had made between her two fingers and enthusiastically slurped it up, her eyes widening as all the flavors hit her tongue. 

‘That’s…’ she blinked, her face breaking out into a smile, ‘that’s bloody brilliant!’ 

Delia hummed her agreement as she tried  it for herself. 

‘Delia you’re an amazing cook.’ 

Delia shook her head, ‘Nope, that’s all you, Patsy.’ 

‘No,’ Patsy grinned shyly. 

Delia plucked another  strand from the pot and slurped it up, giving a chef's kiss,  declaring ‘Bellissimo.’ 

Patsy rolled her eyes and tisked, ‘Stop.’ 

‘Molto bene!’ Delia went on in her most authentic Italian accent, gesturing with her hands, ‘Magnifica!’ 

Patsy laughed shyly, and before she could protest again, the doorbell rang. Patsy gave a panicked look to Delia and held her hands out at her state of dress. 

_ ‘Noo _ !’ she whispered, ‘Delia I’m a mess!’ 

‘Oh, it’s just our friends, they won’t care.’ Delia replied as she took off her apron, ‘Let them in and then you can go and change. I’ll make sure everyone gets a drink.’ 

‘No, that’s not fair. It’s still your birthday. You shouldn’t be doing any hosting.’ 

‘Out,’ Deila pointed her finger and gently shoved Patsy towards the door. 

Begrudgingly, Patsy rushed to the door, and there was an excited chorus of greetings as Trixie, Barbara, Valerie, and Lucille walked through, all carrying something in the fashion of a gift bag or bottle of something alcoholic. Trixie greeted Patsy with a chaste kiss on the cheek, pulling away with a curious look.

‘Goodness, Patsy, have you been baking?’ she asked as the others marveled at the house, looking around with wide eyes and slack jaws.

‘This is your house?’ Barbara asked, her voice full of wonder as she looked around. 

‘Looks beautiful in here Patsy.’ Lucille commented with a wide smile. 

‘Smells wonderful! What are you making?’

‘Love the colours!’ 

‘How old is this place?’ 

‘Can we have a tour?’ 

Patsy head bobbed from woman to woman, looking as if she weren’t entirely sure who was speaking as the questions rang out. 

‘Yeah, hi. I’m here, too!’ Delia waved, giving a smile. 

There was a bustling around Delia as her co-workers and friends made a fuss about it being her birthday, giving her hugs and congratulations. The moment was short lived as the women all split up, much more curious about exploring Patsy’s living room. 

‘Oh my gosh, Patsy, you have quite the collection of records!’ Lucille remarked. 

‘They’re mostly my mums, but-’ Patsy began earnestly. 

‘Patsy, is that a nintendo!’ Barbara gasped, interrupting her. ‘Haven’t seen one of those since I was a kid!’ 

‘Oh, yeah, been hanging onto it for ages,’ Patsy said, flustered. 

‘What games do you have?’ 

‘Um…’ Patsy trailed off. 

‘Patsy! What’s this?’ Trixie pointed to the guitar hanging on the wall, ‘Do you really play the guitar or is this merely decoration?’ 

‘A little…’ 

‘What!’ Delia  exclaimed , hands on her hips. Patsy blushed as the women continued to go through her things. 

‘What’s this?’ Barbara asked the room, pulling towards her the box labeled  _ Music Stuff  _ from behind an end table. ‘Are these instruments?’ she asked as she opened the box. 

Lucille stood beside her and rummaged through. ‘A recorder! Reminds me of primary school,’ she said jovially as she began to play Pachelbel's  _ Canon. _

‘What else is in there? Let me see!’ Trixie said. 

Barbara found a harmonica, and Trixie a tambourine. The living room was suddenly filled with an orchestra of colliding musical notes, sounding rather chaotic to Delia’s ears. 

‘I want one!’ Valerie said over the noise, standing on her toes to see over the shoulders of the others, hoping to get a glimpse into the box of instruments. ‘What's left? Anything in there I can play?’

‘Oh, do you play an instrument, Valerie?’ Patsy asked innocently. 

‘Oh, god no,’ Valerie laughed, ‘can carry a tune, maybe, but that’s about it.’ 

‘That’s alright, let me see what’s here...’ 

Patsy took the box from Barbara and shuffled around the contents, the remaining random instruments clanking around within. Delia noted with a curious eyebrow raised that Patsy seemed to have removed something from her pocket before sticking her hand in the box. 

‘Alright, I think I have something for you.’ Patsy said after a moment. 

‘Maracas?’ Valerie asked excitedly, ‘Is it maracas? I’d be great at maracas.’ 

‘I didn’t see any in there,’ Barbara mentioned sadly. 

‘Close!’ Patsy said with a smile, ‘I have a little egg with sand in it you can shake around. You want that?’ 

‘Ooh yeah, that seems on my level,’ Valerie smiled eagerly, her hands out, ‘Gimmie.’ 

‘Here you go.’ 

Patsy casually tossed the egg to Valerie, the woman reaching out to catch it with one hand. Her grip was so fierce that it cracked, yolk oozing out between her fingers. 

The room was stunned to silence as they looked on, watching as crushed egg shells and yolk dripped from Valerie's face and clothing and from her clenched hand. 

Delia looked from Valerie to Patsy, the redhead breaking out into a grin before she bolted to the kitchen. 

Valerie shook her head, realizing what had just happened. 

‘I’ll kill her!’ she growled, chasing after Patsy. 

There was a stunned pause, no one daring to move as the women in the room observed the leftover bits of egg that puddled on the floor. 

‘What just happened?’ Lucille asked, looking around  confused . 

‘That was a real egg is what!’ Trixie replied. 

Wordlessly, Delia ran after the two, the others following behind her as they burst through the back door just in time to see Patsy turning the hose on Valerie and spraying the unsuspecting woman with water. 

Screams filled the air. Undeterred by the hose, Valerie chased Patsy around the back garden, swearing so much it would make a sailor blush, as Patsy shrieked with laughter. 

‘What’s the matter Val, thought you liked showers?’ Patsy chided as she avoided tripping over one of the raised garden beds. 

Delia couldn’t believe it. She stood there dumbfounded wondering if Patsy had just played a prank to get back at Valerie for what she had done to her earlier that morning. She was oddly touched at the thought, regardless of how juvenile it may have been. 

‘Delia! Behind you!’ Patsy called through laughter. 

Delia whirled around and saw the two super soakers, fully loaded with water, resting up against the back of the house. She quickly grabbed one and joined in. 

It was just as cathartic as it was exhilarating, really, to run around in the garden, making enough noise to wake the dead and soaking Valerie to the bone as the woman swore till she was red in the face. Both Patsy and Delia laid into the woman with water, running in opposite directions when she tried to come after them. It was  bad luck that she was able to wrestle the hose from Patsy,  whereupon she sprayed the redhead with a steady stream of water, chasing her around the garden shouting a litany of  profanities and threats. 

Patsy somehow managed to grab Delia’s arm, and quickly guided her to take shelter behind the shed. Once they were safe, the two women stood with their backs to the small  wood structure and simply laughed. 

‘Don’t worry, the hose can’t reach this far,’ Patsy said as she caught her breath. 

Delia similarly tried to catch her breath, her eyes narrowing playfully at the redhead. 

‘Should have known you of all people would  come up with a brilliant prank ,’ Delia remarked. 

‘Well she deserved it for being such a twat to you.’ 

Delia rested her head against the shed, not bothering to hide her smile. ‘How did you even…’ she remarked, ‘I mean, did you just have an egg in your pocket?’ 

‘Had a hunch,’ Patsy said, still catching her breath, ‘Grabbed one of the eggs left over from when we were making pasta as the others looked around. You OK?’ 

Delia couldn’t help but smile as she turned her head to really look at Patsy. The woman just looked…  _ so  _ attractive in that moment that it made Delia’s heart pound painfully against her  ribs . Her wet fringe was plastered to her forehead, her cheeks tinged pnk from the exertion, and fuck, her smile. She had such a gorgeous smile. 

‘Um, yup,’ Delia finally replied, shaking off whatever she was feeling, ‘I’m fi-’

‘There you are, you tits!’ Valerie suddenly appeared  with the second super soaker, and was currently dousing both Patsy and Delia with water. 

The two ran away laughing and screaming, Delia desperately trying to fend off Valerie with what little water she had left while Patsy searched for the hose again. 

‘My word!’ 

The exclamation had all three women halting their actions. All eyes turned to the back gate, and they were met with the sight of Julienne accompanied by several women Delia didn't recognize. 

‘Is… everything alright here?’ Julienne went on, looking with an eyebrow raised at the water guns and sopping wet attire 

‘Sounds alright to me, Julienne,’ said an elderly woman, grinning behind Juliennes back. She was wearing thick, coke bottle glasses and a flowing, brightly coloured dress with beads around her neck and wrists to match. If Delia didn’t know better she would have guessed the woman was a wizarding world enthusiast. 

‘Thought this was a housewarming party,’ quipped another gruff woman holding a large pink box, who looked unamused by their behavior. 

‘Of course this is a housewarming party,’ Patsy said, dropping the hose and looking rather bashful, ‘Please come in, all of you’.

‘Is it safe?’ the larger one asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked Patsy and Valerie up and down. 

‘Of course it is,’ Julienne huffed, ‘I told you these are the women I work with at the clinic.’ 

‘Congratulations, sweet angel!’ Monica Joan said, seemingly ignoring the bickering from the other two as she approached Patsy. She placed her hands on Patsy’s cheeks like a proud grandmother would. ‘I’ve brought a little gift for good luck in this new chapter  of your life.’ 

From out of nowhere the woman produced what looked to be a tarot card.

‘Three of swords, remember?’ she said mysteriously. ‘Sign of a broken heart.’ 

‘Oh, um well, thank you?’ Patsy replied awkwardly. 

Both Patsy and Delia looked on stunned as Monica Joan ripped the card in half. 

‘No need for that now, is there, when you have the princess of new beginnings.’ 

The woman's kind eyes met Delia’s, and Delia instinctively clutched her super soaker close to her.

‘Right, well, we’ve brought cake,’ the other one said, holding out the pink box, ‘where d’you want it?’ 

‘Evangelina, don’t be rude,’ Julienne chided. 

‘What? I’m just asking where to put the cake we so graciously brought.  Can’t I even ask questions anymore?’ 

‘Just through there!’ Patsy said eagerly, gesturing towards the back door. 

‘Thank you,’ Julienne said with a tone of relief. ‘ Hello Delia.’ 

Delia gave a shy wave as she watched the three women walk into the house. 

‘Um, Pats, why did our boss just come through your back gate?’ she asked. 

‘She… well, they live next door.’ Patsy tried to explain feebly. 

‘You serious?’ 

‘Um…. yup.’ 

‘You live next door to the boss?’ Valerie asked. 

‘Well… yes? Is that weird? 

‘An’ whose that? Her girlfriends?’

‘Look, I really don’t fancy delving into the personal  life of our employer.’ Patsy replied nervously. 

‘Yeah, but I mean… don’t you want to know?’ Delia asked, a mischievous glint in her eye. 

‘Look,’ Patsy relented, ‘All I can make out is there's a grumpy one, and the loopy one’s probably a witch.’ 

‘How so?’ Valerie asked. 

‘Well… she read me my cards once and was strangely accurate.’ 

‘Aw sweet, I want to go and have my future read to me’ Valerie said. ‘Oh, hey, you mind if I borrow a top? Figure we’re the same size.’ 

Patsy crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at Valerie disapprovingly. 

‘Oh, come on mate, you owe me for the egg bit.’ 

‘Do I? After the stunt you pulled on Delia this morning? Never thought you’d be a woman who enjoyed a little knob in the bum.’ 

Valerie burst out laughing, throwing her head back. ‘Oh, shit is that what this was about?’ she laughed again, rubbing tears from her eyes as she caught her breath. ‘Oh Christ, mate, you got me good.’ 

‘Well it wasn’t funny when you deprived me of my shower this morning!’ Delia replied, annoyed. 

‘Oh, you want an apology or what?’ 

There was a beat of silence as Valerie looked from Delia to Patsy and back to Delia, the two women looking back at her unamused and expectant . 

‘You serious?’ 

‘You want to borrow a top or not?’ Patsy asked, taking an assertive stance with her hands on her hips that made Delia’s heart flutter. 

‘Ugh, fine,’ Valerie moped, holding her hands out in a giving gesture. ‘Delia I’m sorry I rubbed my bum on the bathroom door. Can you ever forgive me?’

Delia pouted,  quickly glancing at the super soaker in her hands, thinking she could give Valerie one last dousing before she accepted her apology, but given the woman was already soaking wet it didn’t seem worth it. 

‘Fine,’ she relented, ‘but if I say I need a shower, you better let me in.’ 

‘Deal.’ Valerie looked to Patsy expectantly, ‘So can I borrow something or…?’ 

‘Go.’ Patsy nodded her head towards the back door. ‘Up the stairs and to your right.  _ Don't go in any other rooms _ !’ she called after Valerie's retreating form. 

‘Think you best go after her so she doesn’t go snooping. You look as if you need a change too.’ Delia replied, gesturing at Patsy’s wet attire with her soaker. 

‘Good idea. I’ll be back.’ 

‘Oh, Patsy ! ’ Delia called after her. 

Patsy stopped and turned to look at Delia expectantly, and Delia couldn’t help but break out into a grin, feeling immensely happy. She honestly didn’t care what happened the rest of the evening, thinking that this was possibly the best ending to her birthday she could imagine. 

‘That was bloody brilliant,’ she said, hoping the grin on her face conveyed how much she enjoyed herself. 

Patsy gave a rather endearing know-it-all fishhook smirk before running back inside. 

Delia was about to follow her in and begin to socialize with the other guests when she heard the squeak of the back gate as it opened. 

‘’Scuse me, Miss,’ a man wearing a flat cap asked, ‘this the Mount residence? Julienne said it was next door to her but I couldn’t tell if it was this or the other house attached to hers…’ 

‘Oh, yes, can I help you?’ Delia asked, wondering if she should go and fetch Patsy. Though, she did find it rather peculiar that this stranger was coming through the back gate. 

‘Guess this’ll be it then,’ he mumbled to himself. 

Delia watched as he  moved something from behind the  gate , and looked on curiously as he wheeled in a heavy looking structure made from clay. It looked like a miniature chimney. 

‘Whereabouts do you think I could put this Miss?’ 

Uh…’ 

‘Fred!’ 

Delia whirled around to see Julienne waving to the man. 

‘Fred, thank you,' Julienne said kindly, 'just bring it here to the  patio .’ 

‘Um, Julienne, what exactly is this?’ Delia asked. 

‘It’s a housewarming gift…’

‘Yes, but… what is it, exactly? A small stove?’ 

‘It’s a chiminea,’ Julienne explained as Fred wheeled the thing across the garden and unloaded it where Julienne instructed. ‘One we’ve had for ages but rarely use anymore… since I’ve forbidden Monica Joan from playing with fire ever again.’ 

Julienne gave a disappointed sigh and Delia decided she wouldn't ask the story behind that bit. Instead, she politely smiled and nodded. 

Delia found herself back in the kitchen looking for another bottle of wine to open. The house was beginning to bustle with noise and conversation and Delia  could even hear that someone had put a record on, filling the house with music. 

‘Patsy, I think the doorbell just rang!’ she heard Valerie call. Delia walked to the living room to help and saw that Valerie was distracted, standing in front of the television playing a videogame as she chewed on a slice of baguette. 

‘Ooh,’ Trixie darted past Delia as Patsy descended the stairs in a fresh outfit, ‘I’ve invited some of the other Nonnatus veterans who currently work at the hospital to join us, if that's alright. They’re old friends of mine and Delia’s.’ 

Patsy opened the door once more and to her surprise, a rather large group of people met her on the other side. A chorus of uncertain ‘Hello’s’ followed. 

‘Should probably make introductions...’ Trixie said, placing a hand on Patsy’s shoulder. ‘This is Jenny and her husband Phillip.’

‘Pleasure,’ Jenny smiled, walking through the door and pulling her lanky husband along with a bottle of wine in hand. ‘Lovely home you have, Patsy, and I’ve heard so much about you from Delia.’ 

‘Really.’ Patsy raised an eyebrow at Delia. 

Delia tensed under Patsy’s gaze, though thankfully the other guests began to push their way through the door. 

‘Where can we…?’ Phillip trailed off, holding up the bottle of wine he carried. 

‘Just in the kitchen, please help yourselves to anything to drink.’ Patsy called after their retreating form. 

‘This is our dear friend Cynthia,' Trixie beamed, addressing the smaller woman who was next in line to enter. 'She and I started at the clinic at the same time and go way back, don't we Cynthia.'

'Oh, gosh, I hope not that long.' Cynthia waived her hand dismissively. 'You make me sound older than I really am.'

'Come here sweetie, feel like it's been ages!' 

Trixie and Cynthia shared a tight embrace before Cynthia walked into the house, and she gave Patsy a shy greeting before holding out an  orchid like a peace offering as she walked in. 

‘And finally this charming woman is Chummy, and her husband Peter,’ Trixie said happily. 

‘This little one is Freddie,’ Peter said, holding the toddler up high. 

‘Nice to meet you all, please come in,’ Patsy smiled brightly at the little boy.

‘Not the last I’m afraid, old thing,’ Chummy stepped out of the way and another family could be seen coming up the  path . 

‘Oh! And this’ll be the Turners! You know Patrick, and this is his wife Shelagh and… Well I see you brought the whole family.’ 

‘Yes, this is our eldest, Tim,’ Patrick said, giving the boy a firm pat on the back. 

The lanky teenager gave an unenthusiastic wave.

‘And here is our little Angela, Mae, and Teddy’ 

‘Oh, goodness, well… welcome!’ Patsy looked rather overwhelmed as she shut the door behind them. 

‘You alright?’ Trixie asked. 

‘Yeah,' Patsy replied, giving the back of her head a scratch, 'just dont think I’ve ever seen the house this full of people before.’ 

Any conversation that may have followed was put on hold as the distinct sound of champagne popping could be heard from the kitchen, followed by enthusiastic whistling and clapping from the other guests. The atmosphere in the house changed with the setting sun. It was warm, and smelled of spices, the house filling with the sound of clinking glasses and people chatting enthusiastically as children ran around underfoot. 

Delia plated the enormous pile of ragu she and Patsy had made on a nice dish and carried it out with two hands from the kitchen to the dining room. It was steaming and piping hot when she set it down and she was met with applause at the sight of the delicious  food . Smiling bashfully, Delia helped divy out portions into bowls as  everyone lined up for their share. 

‘Delia you really outdid yourself with this one,’ Valerie nodded approvingly as she took a hearty bite from her fork. 

‘Yes, Delia this smells fantastic!’ Trixie chimed in. 

‘Guys, this was all Patsy!’ 

‘Really?’ 

‘Oh yes,' Delia said knowingly, 'she even grew the vegetables you’re eating, just out there.’ 

‘No! Delia, you helped a lot!’ Patsy argued. 

‘Well makes sense,' Lucille said, looking at the dish with interest. 'You shouldn’t be cooking anyway Delia, it’s your birthday and all.’ 

‘Oh yes! I nearly forgot! Excuse me, everyone!’ Trixie took a nearby fork and tapped her champagne glass of Sprite, filling the room with a sharp  ringing sound. The conversation died down and everyone looked to the blonde. 

‘Please don’t sing to me,’ Delia covered her face as she pleaded, peeking out at everyone from between her fingers. 

‘What? No, sweetie, we’re not singing.’ 

‘Yeah, we need the cake and candles for that,’ Barbara added as she slurped up a  strand of pasta.

‘No,' Delia whisper shouted, 'I don’t want anyone singing to me at all!’ 

‘I just wanted to take a moment to thank our gracious hosts, Patsy and Delia,' Trixie began, looking very much in her element now that all the attention was on her. 'Patsy, for so graciously opening your…  _ gorgeous  _ home to us this evening. I mean, can we all agree this place is absolutely stunning?’ Trixie looked around for validation and was met with nods of agreement and glasses raised higher. ‘Congratulations, sweetie, on your beautiful home. We are so happy that you came  to work with us at the clinic and hope you stay for a long, long time!’ 

‘ Hear hear) ,’ Julienne said, raising her glass and surprising everyone around her with her enthusiasm. 

'And thank you Delia,' Trixie went on, 'for allowing us to celebrate you on this day. You kind, lovely woman. Many, many, many thanks for all you do. You truly live by the motto of giving everything and expecting nothing in return. I don’t think I know a more thoughtful and generous person, devoted to family and friends,  whom you fuss over , spoil and most definitely feed!’ 

‘Cheers, Delia!’ Barbara shouted. 

The rest of the group followed with a chorus of ‘Cheers!’ and ‘Happy birthday!’ as they all sipped their champagne. Everyone soon broke out into a myriad of conversations, the children let loose once again to run around and explore. Many crowded the table as they waited patiently for Delia to dole out their dinner. Trixie was the last to collect her supper, handing over a gift bag as Delia handed over the last of the ragu. 

‘And what is this?’ Delia asked skeptically. 

‘I know you said no gifts, but you’ll thank me for this one.’ 

Delia rolled her eyes and reached into the bag, pulling out two  boxes of pills. She paused and looked at the contents with a raised eyebrow. 

‘This is just two  boxes  of ibuprofen?’

That’s right!’ Trixie replied jovially. ‘You now have one for your handbag, and one for home. Welcome to your thirties!’ 

Delia sighed dejectedly, ‘Thanks Trix.’ 

The rest of the evening was filled with drinking and conversation over food, the kids being taught how to play the  antiquated  video gaming system by Barbara and Valerie, both having to be told multiple times by Trixie and Lucille to let the kids have a turn when they went on too long. Delia found herself floating about the house, chatting with someone or other for a bit before moving on, and she noted to herself that she seemed to not want to stray too far from Patsy. Though the woman was meeting several people for the first time, she seemed rather confident and charismatic, and on more than one occasion had the group she was speaking to in stitches. 

Annoyingly perfect at everything, Delia sighed to herself. As much as she tried to spend more of the evening chatting with others, Delia eventually found herself bored and her glass rather empty, so she made her way to the kitchen to scavenge through the multitude of opened wine bottles for one that had a bit left in it. She was not at all surprised to find Patsy over the sink scrubbing away at pots and pans. 

‘Why are you in here doing  the washing-up ?’ Delia asked. 

Patsy shrugged. ‘Like to keep it tidy. 

Delia placed her hands on her hips. ‘Well stop it and go and enjoy the party. It’s my birthday so you have to do what I say.’ 

Patsy laughed. ‘Alright, alright,’ she said, then gave a rather sad sigh. 

‘What’s the matter?’

‘Well... I feel like a cad,’ she admitted while drying her hands on a  towel. 

‘Why?’ 

‘I didn't get you a gift.’

Delia tisked, though couldn’t help but break out into a smile at her thoughtfulness. 

‘Patsy… you have already made this night... unforgettable,’ Delia needed to shy away at the sight of Patsy’s smile. It was  almost too much to bear. ‘Good memories are a gift in themselves, aren’t they?’ she finished quietly. 

Patsy slowly nodded, her smile softening. 

‘Well I’m glad one of your memories of me will be good for a change,’ she said quietly. 

Delia opened her mouth to reply, but the sound of a phone chiming cut her off. Which was just as well, seeing as she didn’t quite know how to reply anyway. 

Patsy pulled her phone out of her pocket and answered, looking at Delia apologetically. ‘Sorry I need to…’ 

Delia shyly waved her hand and went back to pouring herself another glass of wine, though surreptitiously listening in. 

‘Where are you?’ Patsy said, half turned from Delia. 

Delia couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that. Who answers the phone like that unless it’s an emergency? And it certainly caught Delia’s attention when Patsy hung up right away and rushed out of the kitchen. 

It certainly wouldn’t be rude to follow just to make sure everything was alright, would it? 

‘Everything alright?’ Trixie asked, noting Delia’s expression and watching after  Patsy who had just rushed by. 

‘I don’t know…’ 

The two women watched as Patsy opened the door, and ran out. 

They shared a look and rushed to the door, coming to an abrupt halt at the door frame. 

What Delia was seeing had her blinking and squinting her eyes, wondering if what she was seeing was really happening. 

A woman, tall, dressed in some military camo from what she could tell, was exiting a pickup truck, smiling brightly as Patsy approached. Who was this person? 

‘Did Patsy hire you a butch stripper for your birthday?’ Trixie joked. ‘Look she’s even got a theme.’ 

‘Uh, I really  _ don’t  _ think that’s who this is,’ Delia replied, her heart sinking to the pit of her stomach with nerves. 

‘Donut sticks are back baby!’ the woman shouted, sounding clearly American. 

Patsy gave an uncharacteristically girlish scream as she ran and jumped, hugging this woman fiercely, the two laughing as they squeezed one another tight. 

Delia couldn’t believe what she was seeing, Patsy giving a very un-Patsy like greeting to this person who she assumed was a friend. A very good friend. Maybe more than a friend. 

The two shared a smooch on the lips and Delia’s jaw dropped. 

‘Wow,’ Trixie said. 

‘Yeah,’ Delia replied 

‘What are donut sticks?’ Barbara asked, appearing behind Trixie and standing on her toes to get a look.

‘How the bloody hell should we know?’ Trixie snipped. 

‘Who's that then?’ Valerie asked, poking her head through the door curiously. 

‘Dunno,’ Delia replied, ‘but I have a feeling we’re about to find out.’ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots going on here. We find out Delia's dad worked for Para-Mount and had his pension drained. Delia and Patsy continue to bond over making tasty food and Valerie is can kind of be a twat! Oh and finally everyone gets to meet Vanessa. 
> 
> Oh, and I totally took all Delia's cooking tips from Fat, Salt, Acid, Heat - highly suggest everyone watch it on Netflix - wonderful show. 
> 
> Next chapter is going to be a doozy, so I hope it's worth the wait. Sorry this one took a little bit longer to get out than intended. Turns out it's kinda tough having a hobby while also working full time and having a baby wanting to be on your hip 24/7. Hope you're all well and being safe. Thanks for reading.


	10. There Is A Light That Never Goes Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Take me out tonight  
> Where there's music and there's people  
> And they're young and alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not all love stories are romantic.

May, 2018. Baltimore Maryland, USA. 

The crowd in the bar gave a gracious applause for the drag queen who had just finished their lip synching rendition of 9 to 5 by Dolly Parton. She was dressed in a classic 80’s power suit with over exaggerated shoulder pads and hair teased to the heavens. 

‘Get it girl!’ the host enthusiastically  lauded from the DJ booth, ‘Ya’ll show some love for Karen From Finance!’ 

Dollar bills were thrown, raining around the performer on stage who scooped them up and graciously thanked the supporters. She gave a wink and blew the crowd a kiss before sashaying  offstage  through a pink beaded curtain as  another Dolly Parton song filled the room while the next act got ready. The crowd fell to side conversations, and the bar filled with the sounds of laughing and glasses clinking. 

Patsy sat alone at her little table, tapping her foot nervously as she gulped down another vodka tonic. She didn’t know why she was  so anxious. She wasn’t the one performing, but her friend Tracy was due to appear on stage at some point, and she was feeling nervous for her. Patsy had spent the better part of a month trying her hand at teaching the woman to play the guitar in an effort to not only help Tracy learn a new skill, but to see if she was any good at actually teaching. 

She had gotten the idea from her girlfriend, Moonyung, who made money on the side giving piano lessons to kids around the city. Their apartment also acted as  her studio with students from all walks of life coming in and out on any given afternoon or evening. Patsy had long grown used to the sounds of students practicing their scales and other pieces Moonyung had assigned and she was quite used to hearing others' mistakes. She didn’t know if she quite had the nerve to hear the mistakes of  _ her  _ first student though. 

Patsy was certainly a mentor in her own right to the undergraduates she instructed alongside her professors while she earned her public health PhD, but she figured incorporating music lessons would give her an excuse to pick up her guitar more often and not let it sit in the corner collecting dust. Tracy would be the first test to see if her methods worked, and if she had a chance of pursuing teaching music as a side gig. 

Patsy checked her phone to see that none of her texts had been answered. Up until now she had been trying to get Moonyung to come out and join her  in supporting their friend but she’d had no luck getting in touch with the woman. She put her phone away and almost jumped out of her skin when a large container of something was placed directly in front of her,  clunking loudly on the table. 

‘Did I miss her?’ 

Patsy looked up to see her friend Beth Gibson, an undergraduate of performing arts at Peabody. The woman was from Minnesota and probably the nicest person Patsy had ever had the pleasure of knowing. She had met the midwesterner through Moonyung when they had first started dating, some two years ago now, and had been friends ever since.

‘Beth, did you really bring a potato salad to a gay bar?’ Patsy asked incredulously. 

‘You bet I did. It’s Tracy’s favorite, don’cha know!’ 

‘Let’s keep the country theme going for the next act,’ the host boomed from the booth, ‘ya’ll, please show some love for the rootinest tootinest, most darling cutie pie, hailing from Austin Texas, it’s Miss Tracy Finlay, the ultimate rhinestone cowgirl!’ 

Patsy stuck her fingers in her mouth and gave a loud whistle to show her support, as Beth applauded enthusiastically beside her. 

Through the pink beaded curtain came their friend Tracy with a guitar strung over her shoulder. The blonde woman was dressed in a fringed suede cowgirl jacket with the long tendrils dangling from her chest and sleeves. She had bedazzled the jacket herself with jewels that sparkled under the club lights and had the miniskirt and cowboy boots to match. She looked just as the host described, a rhinestone cowgirl though Patsy knew the woman had never been on the back of a horse. Probably never been near one either. 

‘Oh  fer cute ,’ Beth breathed at the sight of her friend, ‘That jacket is  _ gorgeous _ .’ 

Patsy rolled her eyes, thinking she could use another drink. 

‘Howdy, ya’ll,’ Tracy beamed as she tipped her cowboy hat, ‘this little diddy is called Follow Your Arrow.’ 

She gave an off key strum, and Patsy cringed. 

Ten minutes later, Patsy found herself, along with Beth, consoling Tracy as she sat with them at the little table at the back of the bar  hiding her face in shame. 

‘I guess I can kiss my dreams of performing at  South by Southwest goodbye.’ Tracy sighed as she downed a shot of whiskey. 

‘You might still have a shot at… Coachella.’ Patsy replied, trying to be nice. 

‘Burning Man, for sure. Just say your music is… experimental!’ Beth offered. 

‘Hey girl, don’t look so glum,’ said someone passing by, ‘that’ll probably sound good back home at the trailer park!’ 

‘Oh, fuck off,’ Patsy quipped. 

‘Don’t listen to that meanie,’ Beth seethed, placing a comforting hand on Tracy’s back as she glared daggers at the offender. 

Tracy sighed hopelessly. ‘Maybe I should just drop out and be an instagram influencer like Kim Kardashian.’ 

‘There, now,’ Beth patted her back, ‘I brought you your favorite, here.’ 

Beth popped open the  tupperware container and Tracy's eyes lit up. Patsy shook her head as the woman grabbed a fork and dug in, mystified  once again by  American’s fascination with mayonnaise. 

Patsy checked her phone again, and was annoyed to see that Moonyung still had not replied to any of her texts. Just as well, given how poor a job Tracy did up on stage, but where the hell was she? 

‘I’ll be right back. Need to make a call.’ 

Patsy pushed through the crowd and made her way outside, away from the people and the noise. She took a few paces from the entrance of the bar and leaned up against the brick wall as she called her girlfriend and patted her back pocket for her carton of smokes. 

‘Hey baby,’ came Moonyung’s voice. 

‘...Hey.’ Patsy narrowed her eyes as she  listened intently . It sounded as if Moonyung was surrounded by people all chattering on in the background. Patsy could hear people laughing and the sounds of beer glasses clinking. 

‘Where are you?’ she asked. 

‘I’m at home, where else would I be?’ Moonyung replied blithely. The San Diego native typically sounded laid back, but right now she sounded like she had a few drinks in her already. 

‘Well you could be at Grand Central supporting our friend, like we talked about. What on earth is going on there?’

‘Oh... I just, well you know,’ Moonyung replied, sounding distracted, ‘I invited a few people over and now there’s like, more than a few. It just kind of happened.’ 

More noise could be heard in the background of people laughing and carrying on. 

‘Are you having a party at our place without telling me?’ Pasy asked incredulously. ‘What the hell, Moonyung?’ 

Patsy was met with an aggravated sigh, ‘Oh, Patsy lighten up! We just finished exams for the semester and we’re celebrating, don’t be such a fun sponge!’ 

Patsy pulled the phone away from her ear as she silently cursed the heavens. While she liked being a student, the downside was that she was surrounded by students living with student mentalities. She was starting to think this way of life wasn’t going to suit her now that she was the ripe old age of 31. Regardless, was it so much to ask that her girlfriend show her the common decency to at least tell her if she was going to have people over? At least respond to her when she texted?!

‘Are you coming home?’ Moonyung asked, ‘You could at least hang out with us.’ 

‘Look, I don’t know,’ Patsy sighed. If she were honest with herself, she was rather down about Tracy not doing so well up on stage and she didn’t really fancy being around others just then. ‘I’m not really in the mood to-’ 

A beer bottle falling to the floor and shattering could be heard, followed by a beat of silence, then laughter. 

‘Oh, shit, I better take care of that,’ Moonyung replied. ‘See you when you get here! Love you!’ 

‘I…’ Patsy blinked, listening. She expected Moonyung to have ended the call but it seemed by the sound of it she forgot to hit the button to end the connection. Patsy heard scuffling, like Moonyung had placed her phone in her pocket and was walking around. 

_ ‘ _ _ Who is _ _ making a mess here?’  _ Moonyung joked. 

There was more laughter as several people shouted  _ Sarah  _ teasingly. 

_ ‘Sorry, slipped right out of my hands,’ _ came a shy reply. 

_ ‘Where's the broom? I’ll help ya pick it up,’ _ came a male voice. 

_ ‘May as well do the rest of it too. There’s pizza boxes everywhere.’  _ came another. 

_ ‘Don’t worry about cleaning all that up, _ ’ Moonyung said dismissively, ‘Patsy will do it later.’ 

Patsy raised an eyebrow at that. 

_ ‘She won’t mind?’  _

_ ‘It’s fine, she likes that stuff.’  _

_ ‘Got yourself a good one there.’  _

_ ‘Right? Now if only I could get her to cook I’d put a ring on it.’  _

Patsy pulled the phone away, staring back at it in disbelief as the laughter and carrying on could be heard from the other end. She ended the call, a white hot anger rising in her chest as she questioned her relationship with Moonyung for the hundredth time. 

This hadn’t been the first instance of something like this happening, Moonyung clearly disregarding Patsy’s wants and feelings and portraying this sexist attitude towards her in their relationship. After two years of dating Patsy was really starting to wonder if her girlfriend even liked her anymore. Or if she’d ever liked her. 

They had met the summer before Patsy was to start her PhD program. It was some  _ meet and greet _ with the administrators and other students who were also enrolled to attend the university the following semester. Patsy remembered that night fairly well. She had been wandering the stacks of the Peabody library, the building closed off to visitors except for this private event. With a glass of something or other in her hand, Moonyung had just… walked up and started talking to her. Patsy noted the immediate physical attraction, but there was something about her confidence and the way she carried herself. Despite her smaller stature, Moonyung made quite an impression. 

And there was that killer smile and dimples that made Patsy just the tiniest bit weak in the knees. 

Patsy was surprised when the relationship made it past the honeymoon phase. Until then, she had never had much luck, or had much interest, honestly, in keeping a girlfriend around much longer than that. Usually she would date someone for three to six months and couldn’t find the time or be bothered to make the effort to make it last longer than that. Her reasoning that dating in one's 20’s was not meant for long term relationships. Everyone was focused on getting their lives together. Attending schools or traveling, working, chasing that next promotion or experience. For Patsy, this was just how it was. 

Until Moonyung. They dated, had fun, had great sex, and even the  comradery  of being with someone with  just as demanding an academic schedule  only brought them closer. Patsy was with someone who understood what it took to be successful in these conditions. The two knew when the other needed time and space to focus and get their work done, and Patsy was grateful for it. 

Eventually, they had ticked off all the relationship things that Patsy had never done with another woman before. They moved in with one another, took trips together, attended school functions and parties as each other's dates so everyone would know they were together. Moonyung was the first to say ‘I love you’ and Patsy remembered feeling the happiest she had ever felt in her life. 

For a long while, Patsy thought that the woman genuinely loved her. Recently though, certain things began to give her doubts. With her final year in her masters program approaching, Moonyung became increasingly concerned with whom she associated, and by extension, who Patsy associated with. 

More than ever, Moonyung involved herself with Patsy's appearance. She insisted on choosing Patsy's attire when they attended functions or conferences. She would tell Patsy how to wear her hair and to whom she should speak at these events, like she was trying to mingle and make connections with just the right people and not associate with anyone who wasn’t in a certain circle. Moonyung often boasted about Patsy's background at these events, how well educated and well connected she was. It made Patsy feel like an ornament, like all her accomplishments were to make Moonyung more impressive to her fellow students and colleagues. 

Ornamental was just one of the many things Patsy felt. Instances like this left Patsy feeling less like a partner to her and more like a maid. Moonyung also made her feel like a burden, a nuisance, a nag. She said she loved her but lately Patsy felt anything but love from the woman. She may have shared a home with her, but Moonyung really only ever wanted her there when she needed her. Patsy was increasingly wondering why she bothered to stay with the woman when she knew feeling this way wasn’t sustainable. 

Patsy ended the call, wanting to throw her phone at the ground. Instead, she channeled her anger in kicking an empty tin can by the alley as hard as she could. It bounced off the wall and slid across the sidewalk, landing at the feet of someone with nearly pristine white sneakers. 

Patsy watched as the person picked up the garbage and promptly put it in the trashcan near the entrance to the alleyway. 

‘Shit, sorry,’ Patsy said apologetically, ‘I was going to get that.’ 

The person turned towards her and Patsy needed to do a double take to make sure the person she was looking at was indeed a woman. A black woman, tall and on the thin side, dressed androgynously in a black hoodie and skinny jeans with those white sneakers. The sides of her head were shaved and her natural hair sprung in tight curls every which way on top. Patsy noted with some interest that she had tattoos on her neck and hands, and wondered how much more of her was covered in ink. 

‘’S cool, I got it,’ she said. 

‘...thanks.’ 

The woman stuck her hand in her pocket and shifted from one foot to the other, and Patsy almost gulped under her observing gaze. 

‘Yo, you alright? Saw you on the phone. You get some bad news or something?’ 

Despite having lived in the states for several years now, Patsy still marveled at Americans' ability to just strike up conversations with strangers. She tried to smile, but gave a sigh instead, in an emotional enough state to want to just unload her feelings on this complete stranger, but she didn’t want to come off as a complete lunatic. 

‘Tonight’s just been… yeah,’ she managed to get out. ‘My girlfriend…Things just aren’t going so well right now and I just…lost my temper for a second.’ 

Patsy patted her back pocket and finally found her cigarettes. She pulled one out with her teeth and held it between her lips. 

‘Sorry, you mind if I…’ 

‘Go ahead. Here.’ 

The woman produced a lighter and ignited it. Patsy cupped her hand around the flame and pulled on her cigarette until it lit. 

‘Thanks,’ she mumbled. She gave a sigh of relief once the nicotine hit her system. 

‘So where’re you from? You sound Australian or something.’ 

Patsy gave a laugh, ‘England, actually.’ 

‘Seriously? What the hell are you doing here?’ 

‘I go to school here. Hopkins,’ Patsy replied, not wanting to delve too much into the details. ‘You from here?’ 

The woman gave a sigh and rolled her eyes, ‘Yeah, unfortunately. Shit, wish I could go to England,’ she mumbled. 

‘Why unfortunately?’ Patsy asked curiously. ‘You don’t like it here?’ 

The girl rocked her head from side to side, looking as if she were trying to decide. ‘Maybe unfortunately isn’t the right word. Like, I’ve been here my whole life, you know? I even joined the fucking army to get out and see the world and where do they put me? Like, 20 minutes down 95 at Fort fucking Meade.’ 

This piqued Patsy’s interest. ‘You’re in the army?’ 

‘Yeah.  _ Allied Trade Specialist _ ,’ she said with air quotes, ‘I basically weld shit together all day. Not all bad ‘cause I get to play with fire, but I’m still in the fucking army, so that sucks.’ 

Patsy smirked as she smoked her cigarette, finding the woman more interesting the more she revealed about herself. ‘So you joined to get out of here and…’

‘Yeah. Still here. Least I’m not stuck in North Dakota or some shit but a change of scenery would have been nice.’ 

Patsy took a drag of her cigarette as the woman scratched her head and tisked. 

‘Shit man, donno why you would leave a place like England for here.’ 

Patsy looked away and gave a sarcastic smile as she pursed her lips and blew out a line of smoke.

‘Grass is always greener, I suppose.’ 

‘So you had a fight with your girl and came here hoping to find a new one or something?’ 

‘Not quite.’ Patsy nodded towards the bar, ‘Have a friend who performed earlier.’ 

‘Drag?’

‘No, country song.’ 

The woman hissed through her teeth, ‘Yeah, I heard that. She wasted or something?’

‘You saw the show?’ 

‘Nah, man. Can’t afford the cover so I’ve just been out here listening.’ 

Patsy felt a surge of generosity swell in her, and was about to offer the woman some money to pay the cover for the show. She normally wouldn’t feel inclined to do something like this but she was feeling particularly grateful for just having a conversation with someone new. 

The doors to the bar opened before she could reply, and she saw her two friends walk out, Beth practically carrying Tracy along as the Texan had trouble standing. 

‘PATSY!’ Tracy screamed into the night, nearly causing Patsy to drop her cigarette. 

Tracy hadn’t been pissed during her performance, but now she definitely was by the looks of it. Patsy rolled her eyes at the thought. 

‘PATS?! Patsy!’ Tracy cried, nearly sobbing, ‘She ran away because I did so terribly!’ 

‘Oh shush, you knucklehead! She’s just over there!’ Beth cried out as she scrambled to keep Tracy’s cowboy hat on top of her head. 

‘Beth, what’s wrong with Tracy?’ Patsy asked as they approached. 

‘What isn’t wrong with me, huh?!’ Tracy hiccuped and grabbed onto Beth to hold herself steady, ‘I completely tanked that performance. Be surprised if they let me show my face again.’ 

‘She’s managed about five more shots of whiskey in the time you’ve been out here,’ Beth cut in, ‘Think I ought to get her back home.’ 

Patsy nodded, ‘Try to get some water in her before she passes out for good, yeah?’ 

‘You’re not coming?’ Beth asked. 

Patsy stalled, opening her mouth to say something and not quite finding the words. How was she going to tell her friends that there was a party back at her apartment waiting for her that she absolutely did not want to go to? For a moment she had forgotten all about Moonyung and that she was mad at her, but that anger and resentment came roaring back in an instant. 

‘Nah,’ she looked down and flicked the ash off her cigarette, ‘think I’m gonna stay out here a bit longer with… erm…’

‘Vanessa,’ the woman said, giving a bright smile and holding out a hand to Beth, ‘good to meet you.’ 

‘Nice to meet you,’ Beth said, shifting slightly under Tracys weight to take Vanessa's hand, ‘well, so long as you’re sure,’ she finished, looking at Patsy. 

‘You’ll be alright getting her home?’

‘Yeah, we’re only a few blocks from my place, anyway.’ Beth sighed, ‘The walk might sober her up.’ 

‘I don’t know what happened,’ Tracy sighed, sounding as if she were about to cry, ‘just completely fell apart in there.’ 

‘Hey man, don’t worry,’ Vanessa shrugged, ‘Tacos fall apart sometimes and we still love ‘em.’ 

There was a beat of silence as the three others looked at Vanessa, considering her words. 

‘That’s like, the wisest thing I have ever heard in my whole life,’ Tracy replied quietly, seeming on the verge of tears from hearing something so beautiful. ‘What’s your name again?’ 

‘Vanessa.’ 

‘Vanessa.’ Tracy repeated as if she were saying the name for the first time. ‘Ness. My sweet Ness… Sweet-ness! Sweetness! I’m calling you that!’ 

Vanessa gave a huge smile and looked rather bashful, ‘Hey, only girls who wanna get with me call me that, know what I’m sayin’?’

‘I wanna be one of those girls. Pat-PATSY! Get her number for me would you?’ 

‘No.’ 

‘No Patsy please.’ Tracy reached out to grab onto Patsy’s shirt. 

‘God,’ Patsy rolled her eyes as she peeled her friend off her. 

‘Patsy are you listening to me?’ Tracy breathed. 

‘Come on Tracy,’ Beth said as she dragged the woman away. 

Beth gave her goodbyes, and the two women walked off, Tracy spouting off all the foods she was craving, and Beth nodding along dutifully. 

‘Sorry about my friends,’ Patsy shrugged and smiled apologetically. 

‘Things that bad, huh?’ 

‘Hmm?’

‘You don’t want to go home?’ Vanessa asked. 

‘No,’ Patsy practically spat out the word, but shook her head and tried to calm herself, ‘no, I don’t. Not right now anyway.’ 

She took a drag of her cigarette as she watched Vanessa shift from one foot to another. Wanting to divert attention from herself, she asked Vanessa another question. 

‘What’d you come all the way up here for if you couldn’t get into the bar?’ 

Vanessa shrugged, ‘Ah, well, you know. Surrounded by a bunch of straight boys all damn week. Usually come up here to be with my people.’ 

‘All by yourself?’ 

‘Yeah. I mean like, I got some family, but coming out like this isn’t usually for them. Listen, if you don’t want to go home, there's a club we could hang that’s down near Pigtown if you’re interested. I don’t have to pay cover since I know one of the bartenders.’

‘Depends. What kind of club is it?’ 

‘Eh, full of hipsters usually, but it’s a chill place to hang if you like soul music.’ 

Patsy grinned. It usually wasn’t within the realm of her character or common sense to run off with someone she had just met, but tonight she was feeling particularly unlike herself and honestly welcomed any distraction to her normal life. 

‘Really? Soul music?’ 

‘Yeah, like real live vinyl records from the 50’s and shit. Come on, I’ll show you.’ 

Vanessa led Patsy to an old pickup that was parked around the corner from the bar, and they drove down near Southwest Baltimore, from what Patsy could gather, with the windows down and music playing. They chatted idly until they arrived at their destination, and Vanessa led Patsy to an older building that she could have sworn  was a school or a gymnasium, but the odd language on the front of the door made her think otherwise. 

‘What is this place?’ Patsy asked as they walked up the stairs to the entrance. 

‘Lithuanian dance hall.They put on this thing once a month with the soul music.’ 

‘Do you have to be Lithuanian to get in?’ 

Vanessa pulled the door open for Patsy and raised an eyebrow at her. ‘Girl do I look Lithuanian to you?’ 

Patsy shrugged, her question answered. She followed Vanessa inside and was led down a flight of stairs to the lower level of the building where the sound of people chattering and music thumping through the walls could be heard. They turned a corner and entered a larger room where people were gathered, standing around at the bar or on the dance floor enjoying the music and getting close in the low lighting. Patsy hardly had time to look around before Vanessa pushed her way to the bar and whistled. 

‘Yo, yte!’ 

A blonde woman with a backwards ballcap and plaid shirt whipped around and broke out into a grin at the sight of Vanessa. 

‘Ness! Hey, what’s happenin, man, good to see ya.’ 

The two women clasped hands and bumped shoulders in a friendly greeting. 

This yte person nodded to Patsy. ‘Nice shirt.’

Patsy looked down to see she was wearing the exact same plaid shirt. 

‘This is Patsy,’ Vanessa said, ‘Ran into her at Central and thought she’d like Save Your Soul night better.’

‘Trish Sajauskas, how ya doin,’ she said as she shook Patsy's hand. ‘This your first time at Lith Hall?’ 

‘Yeah, actually. Never knew this place existed.’ Patsy remarked, looking up and around at the intricate wood carvings of mermaids hanging along the bar. 

‘Ah, man, I hate hearing that. Was practically raised here myself,’ Trish went on as she produced a glass bottle filled with amber liquid, ‘Crawled along this bar when I was baby, you know? My whole family’s here in one way or another. This place is everything to me.’ 

A glass shattered behind the bar and Trish along with several others who were working began to shout animatedly all at once  at the offender in Lithuanian . Patsy tried to hide her amused smile as Vanessa cracked up beside her. 

‘Christ you’d think my cousin would know how to pour a damn drink without fucking it up by now. Here.’ Trish slammed down a shot glass and filled it with the amber liquid, sliding it to Patsy. 

‘What’s this?’ 

‘Viryta. Have a shot of that to get you started and then pick a beer. First one’s on the house.’ 

Patsy lifted the little glass and gave it a curious sniff, looking to Vanessa. ‘None for you?’ 

‘Nah, man, I’m good.’ Vanessa nodded as Trish slid her a sprite with lime, ‘Try it though, I hear it’s really sweet.’ 

Patsy knocked back the shot of the honey liqueur, her mouth puckering at the heat and sweetness. Her eyes widened as Trish plunked down a bottle of beer that was the size of her forearm and slid it towards her. 

‘Enjoy.’ 

Patsy thanked her for the beer and she followed Vanessa around to the other side of the bar towards the dance floor. They stood silently together up against the wall, both seeming content to just enjoy their drinks and take in the scene.  It wasn’t an unfamiliar scene ; a small wooden dance floor, a disco ball, a dark room with purple and pink lights flashing on the crowd of young people unabashedly dancing. What was different was the music, and Patsy appreciated that. Instead of the typical club music that permeated just about every bar and club she had been to, the DJ in the back played actual records just like Vanessa had  said . Patsy watched as they thumbed through their carton of LP’s and laid their vinyl down on the  turntable , switching from song to song flawlessly. She was curious and inebriated enough to want to walk right up and ask if she could see their collection, but Vanessa's arm on her elbow stopped her. 

‘Pool tables just opened up. You play?’ 

Patsy followed Vanessa to another room, filled with more people drinking and carrying on, standing in small groups and chatting amongst themselves. There was a pool table in the middle and Vanessa handed her a cue. Before Patsy knew it, she and Vanessa were playing up against any pair that approached the table. She surprised herself with how much fun she was having just playing a game and chatting with strangers with no need to care how well they were connected and with whom. With Moonyung all actions had a purpose and end goal. Patsy didn’t feel the pressure to put on any kind of front. She could relax. 

She was almost relaxed enough to take Vanessa's advice and ask some cute girl who she knew had been making eyes at her across the room to dance. But, the lingering fact that she was not single was still in the back of her mind. Vanessa still prodded her to ask. 

‘I can’t,’ Patsy protested, trying not to notice the girl smiling at her. 

‘Hey, look. She probably ain’t lookin to hook up, she’s only out for a good time with her friends.’ 

Patsy sighed, hesitating. 

‘Having a dance with one person ain’t cheating.’ Vanessa went on. 

‘What if she says no?’ 

‘She won’t ‘

Vanessa took Patsy's beer from her hands and pushed the redhead in the direction of the girl. 

Patsy tried not to stumble over her feet as she approached. The girl was all smiles, looking rather cute in a pair of thick glasses and mustard yellow cardigan. She had that queer librarian look that was completely Patsy’s type. 

‘Hi,’ she said. 

‘Hi,’ the girl smiled back. 

Patsy nervously tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, her cheeks hot as she could feel Vanessa watching her every move. 

‘Would you like to dance?’ she asked. 

‘Yup.’

Quite to Patsy’s surprise, the girl grasped her by the wrist and dragged her out onto the dance floor, Patsy giving a feeble look over her shoulder as Vanessa grinned and gave her an encouraging thumbs up. Her nerves thankfully abated as she danced, thanking whomever was out there that it was too dark and too crowded for anyone to see how much she was blushing or notice how nervous she was. But, the music was good, and it felt good, really, to garner the attention of a pretty girl. She could forget for a moment that she was taken by another. 

Though, it really was just a moment. The thought of Moonyung and what she had to look forward to when she went home later brought back that feeling of dread. 

It was such a shame too because she had been having a good time. 

When the song ended she made an excuse to leave the girl on the floor, who thankfully didn’t mind in the slightest and joined another group of her friends as Patsy shuffled through the crowd and made her way back to the bar. 

She locked eyes with Vanessa, who was busy chatting with another group of women, and mimed having a cigarette. 

She ascended the stairs and exited the building, taking a few paces away from the door before she lit up and had herself a long drag of her cigarette. 

‘Yo, you good?’ 

Patsy turned, surprised to see that Vanessa had followed her out. 

‘To be honest, no.’ 

‘What’s up?’ 

The phone call Patsy had with Moonyung earlier came to mind, along with the general lack of respect and appreciation  evident in Moonyung’s words earlier, and her actions of late. A myriad of thoughts flashed through Patsy's head just then, wanting to unload and vent angrily about her situation, but all she could manage was a despondent sigh. 

‘I just feel hopeless,’ she said, flicking the ash from her cigarette. 

‘Why?’

‘I’m stuck in a relationship I don’t know how to get out of.’ 

Vanessa shrugged, ‘Just leave.’ 

‘Not really that simple, is it. We’ve been together long enough  that our lives are so intertwined that it would be impossible to really split. We’d still be in one another's  lives whether we wanted to be or not. I’m not getting any younger either. Wondering if I should just accept the lot I’ve been given.’ 

‘Dude, seriously? That’s honestly really fucked up. I mean like, you’ve only got one life, ya know? Don’t give up on it so soon. You’re not gonna want to spend the next several decades of your life beside someone who makes you fucking miserable.’ 

‘My parents did it,’ Patsy mumbled bitterly. 

‘Who the fuck wants to be like their parents anyway?’ Vanessa stuck her hands in her pockets and shrugged. ‘Break that fucking chain, man.’ 

Patsy gave an acknowledging hum as she sucked down the last of her cigarette. 

‘Look, It’s almost 2 so this place is shutting down. You still don't want to go home, right?’ 

‘Not really, but I don’t want to keep you if you’ve got other plans. I can find my own way home.’ 

‘Nah, it’s cool. Just like to see where the night takes me, you know? Listen, those girls I was talkin’ to told me about a show happening about now back up in Hampden.’ 

Patsy couldn’t help but smile. ‘You make friends quick, don’t you.’ 

‘I have two vices: tattoos and pretty girls,’ Vanessa grinned, ‘you like punk rock?’ she asked, beginning to walk in the direction of her truck. 

Patsy followed. ‘Don’t listen to it much, really.’ 

‘What the fuck, really? Did you guys like, invent it?’ she asked, hopping in her truck and starting the engine. 

‘Thought that was The Ramones in New York?’

‘No, it was the Sex Pistols in London, wasn’t it?’ 

The two spent the ride to the northwest side of the city debating the beginnings of punk rock and who started it. Soon, they came to a brick row home that was next to an ice cream shop. Patsy could hear the music from the outside of the building. It was, for lack of a better word, noise. It was loud and angry and full of passion. Patsy was led down the steps of the house to the basement and noted that this was a small affair. It seemed this was the kind of show that was by word of mouth only. The small room was packed with a  myriad of young people in all sorts of styles, sporting piercings and tattoos and half shaved heads and hair all colours of the rainbow. The band was stationed in the corner, and consisted of a drummer, a guitarist, and a female front  doing obscene things to the mic , dressed in a ripped dress, stockings, and combat boots. Some in the audience were standing around holding their drinks and enjoying the music while a few others, all boys, bashed into one another in a small mosh pit. 

This typically wouldn’t be Patsy’s scene, and while she couldn’t understand a word of what the  “singer” was screeching into the microphone, she enjoyed the atmosphere nonetheless. She and Vanessa stood against the wall, staying clear of the boys  (crashing  off of one another, and simply enjoyed the music. 

‘We are Cosmo Sex Tips!’ the frontwoman shouted into the microphone, ‘and we’ve got one last song for you before we head out.’

The crowd cheered and whistled as the frontwoman counted off and the guitarist played a tune that Patsy actually recognized. 

_ I got a date with the night. Burnin' down my finger. Gonna catch the kids dry. Gonna walk on water _

Patsy found herself unabashedly shouting along the lyrics to the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s song with Vanessa beside her, and the release of energy was rather cathartic. 

When they exited the building, Patsy’s ears were ringing. The sun was  just about to peek up over the horizon, and even though she hadn’t slept since the night before she didn’t feel tired at all. 

Vanessa suggested breakfast, and led her to a residential part of the neighborhood, walking down the back alley. Patsy wondered if this was a detour to a restaurant, but Vanessa stopped and opened the back gate to someone's house. 

‘This is my grandma’s house,’ Vanessa explained, ‘come up here and stay with her on the weekends.’ 

Patsy shut the gate of the chain linked fence behind her and they walked through the small yard, past the overgrown grass and some neglected lawn chairs. Clothing drying on the line fluttered as they walked through the back door that squeaked loudly on its hinge. Patsy found herself standing in the tiniest kitchen she had ever seen. 

‘Her girlfriend was over last night, so I got out of the house to give them some privacy.’ 

Patsy looked at Vanessa mystified. ‘Your grandmother has a  _ girlfriend _ ?’ 

Vanessa pulled a carton of eggs out of the fridge and shrugged. ‘How you like ‘em?’ 

‘However you’re best at making them.’

The sounds of cracked eggs and sizzling bacon filled the space and Patsy looked around. The kitchen was tiny and cramped with pots and pans hanging from the ceiling, bags of bread and boxes of cereal sitting atop the refrigerator, a plethora of glasses and dishes  drying next to the sink , coffee mugs hanging from hooks against the tile backsplash, and baskets of fresh herbs and vegetables sat along the countertops. 

The squeaks and groans of someone walking on old wooden floors could be heard and Patsy watched as a woman descended the stairs. She was middle aged and white, wearing a fuzzy pink dressing gown with bunny slippers to match. She squinted, her eyes looking a lot smaller than they really were behind a pair of thick glasses as she  observed  Patsy. 

‘Well there she is, in all her glory,’ Vanessa joked. 

‘Hey dere, hon,’ she said tiredly, pulling Vanessa in for a hug and an affectionate smooch on the lips, ‘You just getting in?’ 

‘Yeah.

‘Hooz yer friend?’ 

‘Patsy, hi.’ Patsy eagerly reached over and shook the woman’s hand. ‘Sorry, I hope I’m not intruding.’ 

‘Now don’t you worry ‘bout that, hon. Come ‘ere.’ 

Patsy nearly stumbled as the woman pulled her in for a friendly hug. She wasn’t used to such affection, but after the initial shock,  Patsy relaxed into the embrace, the woman’s gentle perfume and the softness of her fluffy dressing gown unexpectedly comforting . She felt homey and gave hugs like Patsy imagined a grandmother would. 

The woman pulled away and looked at Patsy expectantly through her thick glasses. ‘Jeet?’ 

Patsy blinked, ‘Beg your pardon?’ 

Vanessa smiled, ‘Did you eat?’ she looked back to the woman and waved her wooden spoon at the pan of eggs she was scrambling, ‘I got it Mona, you go and sit down.’ 

‘Lemme make a cuppa coffee first,’ Mona replied, shuffling to the counter and digging through the clutter and cupboards for all the things needed to make a pot of coffee. 

Another person could be heard coming down the squeaky stairs, only this time it was a gruff looking butch built like a refrigeratior, simply wearing boxer shorts and an oversized t-shirt that said  _ Worlds Greatest Grandma.  _

‘Mornin’ Ness,’ she said as she scratched her short salt and pepper hair. The woman looked Patsy up and down and raised a skeptical eyebrow. Patsy reckoned that she was not  going to receive as warm a reception from this one as she  had from  Mona. ‘And who is this strange woman standing in our kitchen?’ 

‘I’m Patsy,’ she said, reaching out to shake the woman's hand. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you.’ 

‘Well hello there, double-oh-seven,’ the woman replied, giving an amused side-eye to Vanessa, ‘Where’d you pick this one up, huh? The base exchange?’ 

Vanessa tisked and rolled her eyes, ‘No, Lina. Here, take this to the table, would you?’ 

Lina looked down at the bacon and eggs that Vanessa had plated and scoffed. 

‘You call this breakfast? Hell that aint no breakfast.’ 

Lina shooed everyone out of the kitchen, and she pulled out a can of  tomato sauce , pouring it into a pan and cracking some eggs over it. 

Vanessa managed to snag the pot of coffee and poured a helping into several  mismatched  mugs, handing one to Patsy as she sat at the table with Mona who was spooning several helpings of sugar into her mug. 

Patsy took a few seconds to look up and around the small home. It was crammed full of things; there was a  Welsh dresser  full of china and records and papers sticking out every which way. Knick knacks and other home made crafts hung from the ceiling. There was a wicker basket with a fat black cat flicking its tail lazily as it blinked its tired eyes open. It was cluttered, but cozy. Patsy noted the plethora of rainbow and pride bumper stickers and magnets that adorned the refrigerator and she smiled appreciatively from behind her coffee mug. 

Patsy turned her focus back to Mona as Vanessa took a seat next to her. ‘So, Mona, how did you and Lina meet?’ 

Mona looked up in thought and blinked, her eyes magnified from behind her thick glasses. 

‘It was a Womyn's festival!’ Lina shouted from the kitchen over the sounds of bacon sizzling in the pan. 

‘Lilith Fair. ‘94.’ Mona  replied airily , not seeming to pay any mind to Lina. 

‘Sisterspace! Richmond Virginia!’ 

‘Sarah  McLachlan was on stage,’ Mona said whimsically. 

‘It was Melissa Etherage, Mona! You're thinking of your ex!’ 

Mona blinked again and shook her head, giving a defeated sigh, ‘Suppose when you’re my age all the years spent naked and muddy in a forest somewhere just blend together.’ 

Vanessa gave an aggrieved sigh as Patsy tried not to choke on her coffee. 

Lina came into the dining room and set a hot pan in the middle of the table that looked like eggs in tomato sauce with parsley and other herbs spread around. It was steaming and bubbly and smelled amazing. She reached for some bowls and spoons out from the hutch and doled out a healthy portion to Vanessa. 

‘Shut up and eat your breakfast. You too, Mary Poppins.’ 

A bowl of food was unceremoniously plunked down in front of Patsy, and she didn’t know how hungry she was until the hearty breakfast was sitting right under her nose. 

‘Now don’t you go be putin’ old bay on those eggs and ruining them, Ness.’ Lina said, pointing a stern finger at Vanessa. ‘They’re perfect the way they are.’ 

Patsy watched as Ness rolled her eyes and slowly put down a yellow and red  tin  of what Patsy assumed was the offending spice next to the other condiments sitting on the side of the table. 

The sounds of coffee being sipped and silverware clinking against  china filled the room, accompanied by the squeaks and creaks of Lina settling into an old wooden chair as she helped herself to some breakfast. 

The woman took a bite of food before she regarded Patsy, swallowing her food and waving her spoon around, ‘So, where you from anyway,  B ig  R ed? You in the military too or...?’ 

‘Ah, no. PhD student at Hopkins. Applied health sciences.’ 

Never one to particularly enjoy talking about herself, Patsy scooped another spoonful of her meal into her mouth  and tried to change the subject. ‘My, this is wonderful, Lina, what is this?’ 

‘Food. What is applied health sciences? What does that even mean?’ Lina narrowed her eyes and raised a curious eyebrow. 

Patsy noted, half amused, that the woman like d to get to the point. ‘Oh, well, I suppose it’s the focus on health through promoting wellness in families and organizations. Societies at large, even. I currently spend most of my time conducting research and assisting professors with their undergraduate lessons and mentoring other students. Sometimes sit in on congressional hearings to influence policy.’ 

There was another beat of silence as the three women simply looked at Patsy, who subtly tucked back into her breakfast. 

‘PhD? Doesn’t that mean you’re going to be a doctor?’ Vanessa asked. 

Patsy shrugged, swallowing her bite of food. ‘Actually I already am. That’s how I came to live in Baltimore. Went to medical school here and even did a year of residency, but decided to come back to school when this opportunity to enroll in the PhD program came up.’ 

Another beat of silence passed as the three women around the table looked at Patsy, seeming to take all the information in. 

Lina sighed and looked disinterestedly at Vanessa. ‘Well gee, Ness, looks like you’re not the smartest one at the table anymore.’ 

Vanessa gave Lina the finger as the woman guffawed. Patsy was quite relieved that no one at the table seemed particularly interested in discussing her academia any further. 

‘And what do you do Lina?’ She asked politely. 

‘Now? Nothing. Retired military,’ she straightened in her chair as her voice dropped an octave, ‘did 20 years in the marines as a helicopter mechanic. Worked on everything: F-35’s, FA-18’s, fully weaponized Cobra attack helicopters, you name it. Worked on ‘em all. Taught Ness here everything she knows.’

‘What? That’s bullshit,’ Vanessa argued. ‘Mine’s a completely different MOS.’ 

Mona looked helplessly at Patsy and shrugged. ‘I can’t understand ‘em when they get to talkin’ their military lingo. All the numbers and letters just fwp,’ she made a sweeping motion with her hand over her head.

‘I take it you weren’t in the military then, Mona?’ Patsy asked. 

‘Oh, you know, hon. Was a housewife for a few years. Had my babies and left my deadbeat husband after a bit. Couldn’t take living with him while he drank away our savings. Took the kids to Vermont to live on a farm for a while.’ 

‘Commune,’ Vanessa  clarified . 

‘Farm,’ Mona argued. 

Vanessa turned to Patsy, ‘It was a hippie lesbian commune. Like, witches dancing naked in the forest type shit.’ 

‘Bet the kids liked that,’ Patsy replied, unable to contain her smile. 

‘Hey,’ Lina leaned over to Mona and smiled affectionately, ‘she don’t need to be part of no comune to dance naked in the forest, isn’t that right sweetie? You can dance naked whenever you want.’

‘Ugh.’ Vanessa blanched as the two women across from her shared a sweet kiss. 

‘Ah, well. It was great for a coupla’ years,’ Mona sighed, getting a nostalgic look in her eye, ‘before the boys got older and wanted to come back to the real world. Needed to figure something out, so I came back here and started doing what I was doing back on the commune.’ 

‘What was that?’ Patsy asked. 

‘Delivering babies. Started off as a doula and got certified as a midwife.’ 

‘Really?’ 

‘Oh sure. No hospital births up there. It was all natural and holistic wooder births and all that. Someone needed to do it.’ 

‘What kind of births, Mona?’ Vanessa asked, barely containing her smirk. 

‘’Wooder.’ Mona went on, ‘did it successfully for a pair of twins and wallah, I’ve become the midwife for the entire county.’ 

Lina quirked an eyebrow, ‘Don’t you mean voila?’ 

‘That’s what I said, wallah.’ 

Vanessa rolled her eyes. ‘Who was even getting pregnant? Thought you said it was a lesbian comune?’ 

‘I never said it was, you did! And we were allowed to leave, you know. It wasn’t a cult. We’d help out other women in the county. I even remember strapping little Arlo to my back when he was just a little nugget himself and hiking through a snowstorm to get to a woman who needed our help.’ 

‘My, what a fascinating pair you two are,’ Patsy smiled looking between the two women. She was finding them more interesting by the moment, ‘Did Lina being in the military cause any strain in your relationship? Given your background I would have thought you wouldn’t be into the military types.’ 

‘On the contrary, hon,’ Mona replied, wiggling her eyebrows, ‘I always liked a woman in uniform.’ 

Vanessa rolled her eyes as the two women began to giggle and kiss again, and to the woman's relief, they broke apart when the abrasive tones of someone's phone chiming cut through the small house. The noise was as welcome as someone revving their Harley on a Sunday morning. 

‘Yo!’ Lina answered the phone as Vanessa rose from her seat and began to collect the dishes. Patsy rose to help. 

‘Hey,’ Lina turned to Mona with the phone to her ear, ‘Janice wants to know about memorial day weekend.’

‘Tell ‘er we’re goin downy ocean like we always do? Surprised she hasn’t asked to come with us.’ 

‘That’s why she's calling. She wants to know when we’re leaving to see if she can catch a ride.’ 

‘We’re leaving Friday and coming back tewsdee.’

‘You hear that, Jan? What’s that? Oh yeah we’ll see if Ness wants to come. Might bring her new friend Dr. Who over there. Yeah new girl, uh huh.’ 

‘Lina!’ Vanessa dropped the dishes in the sink with a  clang.

‘No, seriously, a real doctor,’ Lina went on, not listening. 

Vanessa grumbled as she began to rinse the dishes. 

‘Why does she keep referring to me as English characters?’ Patsy asked, raising an amused eyebrow. 

‘She most likely completely forgot your name immediately after you introduced yourself.’ Vanessa huffed. 

Mona appeared between the two at the sink and grasped Patsy on the arm. Patsy needed to step back and look down at the smaller woman smiling warmly back up at her. 

‘Don’t you mind her, sweetheart, she just enjoys giving people a hard time. Why don’t you let me tidy up, hmm?’ 

‘You don’t mind?’ Vanessa asked. 

‘No hon, you two go on ahead and enjoy your Sunday. Maybe take a nap, y’all were out all night weren’t you?’ 

‘Yeah, I should probably head home, I’m feeling rather knackered.’ 

‘’S cool. I’ll walk you out.’ 

Patsy said her goodbyes to Mona and gave a friendly wave to Lina, who remained on the phone with Janice and gave a curt nod of acknowledgement as she and Vanessa walked out the front door. 

The two stopped to stand on the stairs of the small porch as Patsy once again reached for her cigarettes, pulling one out with her teeth and holding it between her lips as she searched for her lighter.

‘I got you,’ Vanessa said, lighting her cigarette once more. 

Patsy narrowed her eyes curiously. ‘You smoke, Ness?’ 

‘Never have. Don’t drink either. Never had the desire to.’ 

‘Yeah, I noticed. But why carry around a lighter?’ 

Vanessa shrugged, leaning back against the iron railing of the porch, ‘Never know when you’ll need one. Besides, comes in handy if a cute girl ever needs help lighting her smokes. Gives me a reason to come over and talk to them.’ 

Patsy raised an eyebrow and blew out a line of smoke. 

‘Not that I used that tactic on you or anything,’ Vanessa grinned and crossed her arms, ‘I’m just a really nice person who happened to have a lighter when you needed one.’ 

‘Oh, you didn’t see me as a damsel in distress in  dire  need of her nicotine fix?’ Patsy asked, batting her eyelashes. 

‘Naw, you look like you could hold your own. I was just helping you out. Aren’t you glad I did?’ 

‘Hmm,’ was all Patsy replied as she took another drag. 

She flicked the ash from her cigarette and leaned against the other side of the iron railing, facing Vanessa, wanting to ask a question but not quite sure how to phrase it. Her dilemma must have been written in her expression because Vanessa raised an inquiring eyebrow at her. 

‘What?’ 

‘I was just wondering… is… Mona is your grandmother, right?’ 

Vanessa grinned and looked down bashfully, and raised her head after a moment to look at Patsy, ‘Yeah, nah, like we’re obviously not related, but she adopted me, OK?’ 

‘Really? She adopted you?’ 

‘Well, not officially, but like, she kind of found me and helped me when I needed it most.’ Vanessa looked down and scratched the back of her head before she continued. ‘Dont really have a family and was living on my own for a long time, just tryin to like, you know, scrape by, trynna get a job or something.’

Patsy nodded and took another drag of her cigarette, curious to hear Vanessa's story. 

‘Anyway, I was up around here looking for work a few years ago now. Started asking folks if I could help them carry their groceries or walk their dogs, just something. Came up to this house right here and asked Mona if I could mow her lawn for her. So we get to talking and she gets it out of me what my situation is.’

‘And that is…?’ Patsy asked, raising an inquiring eyebrow.

‘And that is… parents were never around. Got picked up by the city when I was 10 for child abandonment and spent six years going from home to home.’

‘Oh, Ness,’ Patsy sighed. 

‘Yeah, man, I know. I hated it enough to just leave at 16, dropped out and everything and tried to just live on my own. ‘S what led me here.’ 

‘So Mona gave you a job?’ 

‘Nah. Instead of paying me, she let me sleep in her son's old room. She didn’t ask anything else of me at the time, but I was just happy to have a warm place I could rest my head.’ 

‘That was incredibly generous of her.’ 

‘It was the kindest thing anyone had ever done for me,’ Vanessa smiled shyly, ‘and it didn’t end there. She and Lina, like, just took me under their wing. They taught me how to cook and fix things around the house, just like stuff you’d think your parents would teach you. They took me to meet their friends and everyone was just so nice and welcoming and for the first time I felt like I had a family, you know? And I just… I donno, man, they gave me the space I needed to kind of just figure out my next steps. They never pushed me to do anything and just let me sit on the sofa and watch tv or whatever for a few weeks until I figured my shit out. They just kind of knew I would come to them when I was ready. So, yeah, they helped me study for my GED and Lina encouraged me to think about the military. Said it would put a good head on my shoulders and…’ Vanessa shrugged. 

‘And now you’re in the Army.’ 

‘I mean, it sucks but she was right. It’s better than where I was. Got a decent job, a shot at goin to college… Man, before I went in I didn’t know how to write a damn check and now I’m paying my own fucking bills, and it’s like… I feel like I finally made it, you know?’

Patsy couldn’t help but smile at Vanessa, the woman seeming to glow with pride for what she had overcome and accomplished. 

Vanessa scratched the back of her head and looked bashful. ‘Shit, feel like I’ve been talking your ear off.’ 

‘Oh, no, not at all,’ Patsy replied, ‘it’s just… it's a fascinating story. Incredible, really. I’m so sorry that all happened to you when you were a kid, but I’m so happy things seem to be working out now.’ 

‘Nah, I’m just lucky, I guess. Don’t want to think about where I’d be if it wasn’t for Mona. She’s just an amazing woman with a lot of love to give. And you know, it’ll do me no good being angry about my past so I just try to take the love she's shown me and pay it forward in any way I can.’ 

Patsy gave a small smile and looked at her shoes, feeling shy all of a sudden. She wondered if her and Ness hanging out all night was part of her philosophy to take that love and pay it forward. At this point she didn’t really care.

She took a long drag of her cigarette and looked back up at Vanessa, who seemed to be eager to move on from the subject of her past. 

‘So are you going to the beach with them?’ Patsy asked.

‘Ah, nah. Rehobeth is where lesbians go to retire and I’m not into cougars, you know?’ 

‘What’s wrong with older women?’  Patsy smirked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. 

‘Nothing, man, just not there yet, and I wanna like, not sleep with someone who has the same haircut they graduated highschool with back in like ‘83. 

‘ What even is a cougar ? How do you know when you’ve become one?’ 

‘I asked Lina the same thing and she’s like, when you kneel down to eat out your girl and your knees crack. That’s it.’ 

Patsy nearly choked on her cigarette.

‘I like them. I… well, I certainly like them a whole lot more after everything you just told me, but Moonyung and I are the only gay couple in our friends group. It’s nice to see another couple and one that’s been together for so many years at their age still being very much in love. Makes me think I have a chance at…’ Patsy trailed off, too shy to finish her thought. 

‘What?’ 

‘No, nothing. I shouldn’t say.’ 

‘Having a chance at finding someone else, you mean? Cause like, you never really talked about whatever fight you were having but you’ve seemed put out by it all night. Come on, what’s going on?’ 

‘We didn’t have a fight. Not really. Just a lot of little things have been adding up… for the last two years.’ 

‘Dude, no,’ Vanessa shook her head, ‘you can’t be doing that. It’s going to breed resentment and you’re going to blow up at her and really fuck things up.’ 

‘I’m English. I was born to suppress my true feelings.’ 

‘Look, I’m just saying, like, just be in your feelings, man. Don’t hold them down or you’ll rot from the inside.’ 

‘Well I’ve never been really good at just… letting them out.’ 

‘You could try to be like that girl at the show. The singer who was just screaming incomprehensibly into the microphone. You like music, right?’ 

‘Do I like…’ Patsy trailed off with a laugh, finding the question absurd, ‘yes I like music. Surrounded by it for the most part. Most of my friends are students at Peabody and are constantly practicing and experimenting. Moonyung herself plays viola and teaches piano on the side. Been trying to get back into playing guitar more regularly actually.’ 

‘You play the guitar?’ 

Patsy nodded with a shrug. 

‘Dude, what? You could totally use that as an outlet. Just strap it on and shred.’

Patsy did have to admit watching the girl scream her heart out into the microphone was rather cathartic. She wondered if channeling her frustrations through her guitar would help deal with her anxieties and frustrations. 

‘So what are you going to do about your girlfriend then, huh? Hope you’re not just going to do nothing and live miserably with this person for the rest of your life?’ 

Patsy huffed, ‘No, but is it so wrong of me to not want to deal with the confrontation? Would rather ride it out until she gets sick of me.’ 

‘I couldn’t live like that, but it’s your life, dude. Just hate to see you waste it on someone who treats you like shit.’ 

‘Probably deserve it.’ Patsy quipped as she flicked the ash off her cigarette. 

‘Dude.’ 

‘Well have you ever had to break up with anyone?’

‘Nah, man, never been in a relationship long enough to start resenting people. Women come, they go’, she shrugged indifferently, ‘we get what we want from one another and move on.’ 

‘So you just casually go from woman to woman.’ 

‘Yeah, and well like, some of em are freaked out by the military shit, like they don’t wanna get attached thinkin I’m going to deploy and never come back, others just want to jump me in my uniform, There’s hardly an inbetween, but you know what, I’m cool with it.’ 

‘Well it’s not so easy to just end things when your lives are co-mingled.’ 

‘Yeah, you mentioned. I still think it’s bullshit. People who have been together forever and even scramble their DNA together still manage to get out of a terrible situation. You’ve been with this person how long?’ 

‘Two years.’ 

‘That’s nothing, man. Blink of an eye.’

Patsy looked down and scratched her head. She knew Vanessa had a point but the thought of leaving Moonyung filled Patsy with anxiety. What would happen? Would her friends stop talking to her? Come to think of it , all the friends she had made here in Baltimore were through Moonyung. Would they cut her out of their life if she and Moonyung split? The thought of the social isolation that possibly faced her made Patsy think that putting up with Moonyung’s terrible behaviour would be worth it if it meant she could keep her friends around. And anyway, if they broke up, would she have to move out? Could she afford living on her own? Her school was paid for, sure, but the grant money earned for her research and work only stretched so far to cover the rent and bills. 

She had no family here, either, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to ask her father for any help. 

Staying with Moonyung was really the only thing holding her life together. 

She felt trapped. 

Patsy was broken from her thoughts as she heard Vanessa chuckle. 

‘What?’ 

‘Aw, nothing man. Just that fucking sign. Makes me laugh every time I see it.’ 

Patsy followed her gaze and saw the familiar sign for a fast food restaurant with golden arches standing prominently at the end of Falls Road. She squinted her eyes and read aloud slowly. 

‘Donut. Sticks. Are. Back?’ 

‘Yeah man, fucking stupid right? Like the longer I think about it the less sense it makes. Like, what the fuck is a donut stick? When did they come back? Where did they go? Were they missed so much they had to make a fucking sign to alert the masses they had come back? I think the best part is that they haven’t changed that fucking sign in like a year.’ 

‘Well I suppose if things don’t work out with Moonyung I can take solace in the fact that donut sticks are back.’ 

Vanessa nodded in agreement. ‘They’re back, and they’re always gonna be there for you, just like me.’ 

‘We just met.’ 

‘Hey, gotta start somewhere. So you gonna head home or what?’ 

‘Suppose I should.’ 

‘Cool. Text me when you make it home safe?’ 

‘Yeah, sure. I…’ Patsy paused, blinking, ‘Wow. That’s a clever way to get someone's number. You use that line a lot?’

Vanessa gave a cheeky grin as Patsy handed the woman her phone, and she plugged in her number and texted herself. 

‘Would you be offended if I put you in my phone as Crocodile Dundee?’ Vanessa asked, handing Patsy back her phone. 

‘Once again, not Australian.’ 

‘Fine.’ Vanessa replied, tapping away on her phone, ‘Ginger…. Spice.’ 

Patsy rolled her eyes and looked down at her phone. 

‘Did you put yourself in my phone as ‘Sweet-Ness?’ she asked incredulously. 

‘Yeah, your blonde friend earlier made me remember how much I liked it. Speaking of, she gay?’

Patsy shook her head. ‘She’s not gay, she’s a mess. You don’t want to get involved.’ 

Vanessa gave a disappointed huff. ‘Fine. Hug?’ 

Patsy looked at Vanessa with her outstretched and welcoming arms. It was her instinct to hesitate when met with a request for something so affectionate from someone she had just met, but Vanessa had proven herself to be different. She had opened up to Patsy and laid herself bare and vulnerable. She had shown herself to be a true friend, simply being present with no expectations. She had offered herself as someone to just talk to and experience a night with.There were no worries or fear of judgement, no obligations, no need to make an impression or cozy up to anyone. It made Patsy feel  more like herself than she had been in a long time. 

She wrapped her arms around Vanessa and gave the woman a tight, loving embrace, and as strange as she thought it would be, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This'll be part 1 of a snippet of Patsy's time in the states and how she came to meet Vanessa and end her relationship with Moonyung. This chapter was meant to be so much longer but I didn't want to keep you folks waiting, so a part 2 will be coming soon. 
> 
> I know there's at least one other Baltimoreian out there who is reading this fic so I hope I did the city proud with Patsy's adventures in this chapter. And if anyone is wondering, yes, we do talk like that.


	11. The Queen is Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We can go for a walk where it's quiet and dry  
> And talk about precious things  
> Like love and law and poverty  
> Oh, these are the things that kill me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Content warning**. There is a scene with non consensual sex after the first line break, where Moonyung coerces Patsy into sex to exert control and power over her. As a survival mechanism, Patsy obliges. 
> 
> Moonyung is terrible in this chapter and does a pretty good job playing the bad guy. Many of the behaviors she portrays here are tell tale signs of an emotionally abusive and all around toxic person. The aforementioned sexual assault aside, she snoops, belittles Patsy and puts her down, is controlling, dismisses her own terrible behavior, etc. This chapter isn't meant to be an analysis on abuse in same sex relationships, but if you find yourself with someone like this, make a plan to leave. Life is too short to stay with people who make you miserable and treat you like shit.

Patsy shut the door  to the apartment she shared with Moonyung in Charles Village , a neighborhood that was a stone's throw away from Hopkins university. She had walked the mile from Mona’s house in Hampden in relative peace and quiet thinking about all that had transpired that evening. She felt rejuvenated, not having a night out quite like that in some time. Staying out all night and meeting new people, experiencing new things and being welcomed into someone's home and life; it made her feel wanted and loved in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. 

Once she turned to her kitchen, however, that lovely feeling  evaporated as she surveyed the mess that was left behind  after the party . Presumably for her to clean up. 

Patsy was distracted momentarily as her phone chimed in her pocket, and was honestly surprised it had any battery left. She smiled at the little notification that said she had received a text from  _ Sweet-Ness _

**Did you make it home safe?**

_ Yeah _ . 

**Bitch, I told you to text me when you made it home.**

Patsy broke out into a grin at the silly text and let out an uncharacteristic giggle. 

‘What are you laughing at?’ 

Patsy whirled around to find Moonyung looking like she had just woken up, her long dark hair a mess as she raised her t-shirt to scratch at her tummy. 

‘Nothing,’ Patsy replied, sliding her phone in her back pocket. 

‘Are you just getting home?’ Moonyung asked, looking at the clock on the wall. ‘Have you seriously been out all night? And why do you smell like smoke?’ 

‘I-’ Patsy’s brain flashed through a myriad of excuses, but she was thankfully interrupted. 

‘Seriously Patsy, are you still smoking? It’s fucking disgusting.’ Moonyung breezed past Patsy and into the kitchen,  yawning loudly . ‘I thought you were going to quit?’ 

‘Well I-’ 

‘And where have you been anyway?’ Moonyung pressed on as she noisily pushed aside the mess on the countertop. Patsy noted with a hint of annoyance that Moonyung had merely pushed everything out of the way so she could make a pot of coffee. She let the mess just sit there as she poured water into the pot. 

Patsy huffed. ‘Well if you had bothered to read or answer any of my texts you would have known I was with Tracy and Beth.’ 

‘Oh, right, forgot Tracy had that stupid show,’ Moonyung grumbled. 

‘It wasn’t stupid,’ Patsy replied, ‘and she could have really used your support.’ 

‘I had better things to do.’ 

Patsy tisked at the callousness of her words, too tired to put up a fight. She retreated to the living room and sat on the sofa, the  reality of being out and about all night finally getting to her. A wave of fatigue hit her, and she sighed and closed her eyes, feeling like her whole body was melting into the couch. Her ears were still ringing from the basement show  so  she almost didn’t hear Moonyung talk to her from the kitchen door. 

‘So you were out all night with them?’ Moonyung asked casually. 

Patsy gave a noncommittal shrug. 

Moonyung stood her ground and waited, placing a hand on her hip. ‘All night. With  _ Beth _ . The woman who can never stay up past 10 o’clock?’ 

Patsy sighed tiredly. ‘I made a friend, alright?’ 

This seemed to pique Moonyung’s interest. ‘A friend?’

Patsys phone chimed in her pocket, and she ignored it. 

‘Look, her name is Vanessa. We just struck up a conversation and ended up hanging out.’

‘You stayed out all night with some strange woman?’ 

‘She’s not strange.’ 

Again, her phone chimed. 

‘And now you’re texting her?’ 

Patsy moved to silence her phone. ‘She’s just a friend, alright?’ she replied, her head back on the sofa and pinching the bridge of her nose.  She didn’t have the energy for this argument. She didn’t even have the energy to get up off the couch . ‘It’s not what you’re thinking. I can make friends, can’t I?’ 

‘Seems a little more than friendly if she’s texting you first thing in the morning.’ 

‘She’s just checking in to see if I made it home OK. That’s it.’ 

Moonyung gave an annoyed grunt and retrieved a cup of coffee from the kitchen, leaving Patsy in a blissful silence that didn’t  last nearly long enough for her.  Moonyung waltzed back through the living room on her way to their shared bedroom. ‘Would you mind cleaning up a bit? I have students coming in an hour.’ 

She shut the door to their bedroom without waiting for a response, and Patsy seethed, anger growing hot in her chest. She suddenly had the energy to get up off the sofa. 

Patsy opened the door to their room to find Moonyung brushing her hair, facing the mirror that sat above their dresser. 

‘I’m going to bed,’ she said firmly, and began to unbutton her shirt. 

‘What?’ Moonyung narrowed her eyes at Patsy through the mirror. ‘Patsy I have students coming over soon and the place is a wreck.’ 

‘Well that’s not my fault, is it?’ Patsy hastily removed her shirt and tossed it in the laundry bin, ‘Clean up your own fucking mess for once.’ 

‘Patsy, I  _ have  _ to get ready.’

Patsy kicked off her shoes and let down her hair. ‘You should have thought of that before you trashed the place.’ 

‘What the hell has gotten into you?’ 

‘I’m tired, is what.’ 

‘Well if you hadn’t stayed out all night,’ Moonyung mumbled, clipping on a bra. 

‘No, I mean…,’ Patsy sighed, feeling angry and exhausted. She wondered if she had the energy to even get into this right now with Moonyung when their warm and cozy bed was right there looking so inviting ‘Nothing. Just forget it.’ 

Moonyung turned back to face Patsy. ‘No. What  _ do  _ you mean? What are you talking about?’

Patsy raked her fingers through her hair. ‘Just… why do you just think that I’ll come home and clean up the place?’

Moonyung rolled her eyes, annoyed. ‘Jesus Patsy it’s too early for this,’ she replied, noisily opening a drawer and pulling out a clean pair of jeans. 

‘No, really. I clean all the time. I make sure the rubbish gets taken out and the bills are paid. I just feel like I take on the bulk of everything that keeps our lives ticking along. No, actually, all of it. On top of everything else I have to do for school and work and… and it’s stressing me the fuck out.’ 

‘Fine, Patsy, you don’t have to clean the kitchen, god.’ Moonyung replied petulantly, throwing on a clean shirt.

‘It’s more than that Moonyung! I feel like you only keep me around because I do all this shit for you and you contribute nothing.’ 

Moonyung halted her motions and glared at Patsy. ‘Wow. Harsh. 

Patsy let out a frustrated sigh, ‘ Am I wrong though? It always falls on me to keep our lives functioning to the point where I think you see me as anything but your girlfriend. I’m like your assistant and maid and handyman all rolled into one .’ 

‘Patsy that’s not true!’ 

‘Isn’t it? I’ve never seen you pay a bill or pick up a hammer. Or any tool, really. If something falls apart it’s always on me to fix it. I’ve never seen you so much as hang a fucking picture frame on the wall. Why?’ 

‘I don’t fucking know, Patsy,’ Moonyung sighed, exasparated as she buttoned her jeans, ‘I’m busy? Hanging a fucking pictue on the wall is not on the top of my list of priorities at the moment,’ She raked her fingers through her hair. ‘God, what an absurd thing to care about!’ 

‘Well I care! Can you at least tell me you care that I have feelings about this? That you care about me?’ 

‘I do!’ 

‘Then show me!’ Patsy replied, ‘I need to see some evidence that you want to make even the smallest of contributions to  _ this _ , this place, this relationship!’

Moonyung’s nostrils flared and she stared daggers back at Patsy, the moment of silence between them filled with tension. Patsy watched as Moonyung turned to the closet and rustled through their clothes, plastic hangers clinking noisily until she retrieved the thing she had been searching for. 

Moonyung pulled out a lovely green t-length dress with three quarter sleeves and a low neckline and threw it at Patsy. 

‘What’s this?’ 

‘My  _ contribution _ ,’ Moonyung  spat , ‘I bought this for you. Yesterday.’ 

‘What for?’ 

‘To wear at the gala tonight,’ Moonyung replied blithely, turning back to the mirror as she put on a pair of earrings. 

‘What?’ 

‘The end of year gala, Patsy. It’s tonight at the library and we’re going.’ 

‘I know that, but I was going to wear my suit.’ 

‘No, you’re wearing that dress.’ Moonyung said firmly. 

‘What if I don’t want to wear a dress?’ she replied slowly, growing more angry by the second. This wasn't the gesture of love and affection she was going for. She didn’t want to be in a relationship with someone who thought they could earn her love through money and gifts. She’d had enough of that growing up with her parents. 

Moonyung huffed indignantly. ‘What, are you butch now? Patsy it’s been ages since I’ve seen you in a dress. I went out of my way to buy it for you so just wear the fucking thing. The director of the BSO is going to be there.’ 

‘So?’

‘So you know I’m trying to get a spot in the orchestra, Patsy! I need you to get yourself dolled up put on the fucking charm till I get my audition.’ 

Patsy remained silent and continued to stare angrily at Moonyung. 

‘You could say  _ thank you _ for the dress instead of acting like a fucking brat and throwing a temper tantrum.’ Moonyung left, and slammed the door so hard the walls shook. 

Patsy looked down at the dress in her hands, her fists clenching the material tightly as she fought back tears. She was so mad she felt sick, her whole body tense. She was sick of feeling this way, of feeling used and not being in control of her own choices. 

She was tired. She didn’t know how much more she could take. 

* * *

Weeks passed, and Patsy began to notice things. 

She and Vanessa chatted more. Their conversations were entirely friendly and Patsy certainly enjoyed having someone to talk with that she was comfortable opening up to without fear of judgement or retribution. 

When she thought about it, she couldn’t say she felt that way about Moonyung. 

She laughed more when she talked with Vanessa. Their conversations left her feeling better about herself. She enjoyed every moment of time she spent with Vanessa, too. The women would drive up on the weekends and they would go out somewhere, and usually explore a part of the city that Patsy had never been to. She was getting out of her Hopkins bubble and learning more about the place she had called home for several years, and it truly started to feel like home with a friend like Vanessa around. 

While all good things, Patsy began to notice some not so good things. 

Mainly Moonyung. The woman was skeptical  when Patsy told her the truth about her  friendship with Vanessa . Patsy kept insisting that if Moonyung simply met Vanessa she would like her and it would squelch any suspicion that their relationship was  anything but friendly. Moonyung, however, was not interested. 

More time passed. 

Moonyung was increasingly interested in Patsy's schedule. Where she would be, what time she would be home, and there was always a fight when she wasn’t home when she said she would be. Her phone would blow up with calls and texts  from Moonyung , demanding to know her whereabouts , and Patsy was overwhelmed and confused, and quite frankly a little scared at this change in behaviour from her girlfriend. 

Patsy stepped out of the shower one Saturday morning and  grabbed her phone from the nightstand . She had been expecting a text confirming  where she should meet Vanessa  for lunch and found that there was no alert on her phone saying she had received any text. 

She put the phone down and continued to dress and do her hair. She grew a little worried when there was no chime or indication that Vanessa had received her text, so she opened her phone to give her a call. 

Funnily enough,  she found Vanessa had replied . It was right there in the chat, her response. It was  checked off, marked as  read by Patsy. 

But she hadn’t read it before. At least she  didn’t think she’d read it before . Unless… 

With a sinking feeling, Patsy realized Moonyung was reading her texts. 

She had known Moonyung was jealous, but had she really resorted to snooping? Was this the first incident? Had she done it more? How much had she seen, anyway? What else could she possibly be snooping through? 

Patsy quickly changed the password on her phone and continued to get herself ready in silence, opting not to confront Moonyung, but resolving to pay much closer attention to her actions. 

It was a problem that Patsy at least recognized in herself, all the coddling she was doing to  assure  Moonyung that she was being  faithful to her and that the woman had nothing to worry about. This breach of privacy was too much. 

Patsy tried to slip out of the apartment unnoticed. She had her hand on the doorknob when she was spotted by Moonyung  as she emerged from their kitchen. 

‘Where are you going?’ 

_ You should know, _ Patsy thought, anger flaring at the thought of Moonyung going through her phone and playing innocent. 

‘Just grabbing a spot of lunch with Ness. Thought I’d get out of the house for a bit since I know you have lessons this afternoon.’ 

Patsy didn’t wait for a reply as she left, unable to stand the sight of her girlfriend in that moment, she was so angry with her. She made sure to silence her phone before the incoming texts and calls rolled in. 

A fight broke out later that evening.

‘This is ridiculous,’ Patsy implored, having returned with 24 unread messages and 8 missed calls from Moonyung. 

‘Patsy, I just… look, I’m sorry, OK?’ Moonyung paced frantically in their living room, ‘I was just worried and wondering where you were.’ 

‘You knew exactly where I was and who I was with!’ Patsy cried. 

‘Well you could have just stayed here like I wanted!’ Moonyung cried petulantly. 

Patsy took a deep breath and spoke slowly. ‘I made plans with Vanessa last week.’

Moonyung crossed her arms. ‘So you prioritize her over me then?’ 

‘I’m not going to bail on her on a whim just because you want me to! You know I hate it when people do that.’ 

‘If you cared about me you would have canceled!’ 

There was a painful sting in Patsy's chest, and she didn’t know whether it was because Moonyung continued to not believe her when she was telling the truth about Vanessa or that she was lying when she replied, ‘I do care about you!’ 

‘Well you have a  shitty  way of showing it!’ 

‘Moonyung, please,’ Patsy pleaded, already growing exhausted with this fight, ‘You have to trust me when I say she's just a friend, please.’ 

‘I do, I just...’ 

Patsy raised a skeptical eyebrow. ‘Do you?’

Moonyung sighed. ‘It’s  _ her  _ I don’t trust.’ 

‘What!? You don’t even know her!’ 

‘Well I know she’s always texting you! You two are always chatting with one another and hanging out recently. What am I supposed to think? I mean, what do you even talk about?’ 

‘Life!’ Patsy threw out her hands, exasperated, ‘She’s an interesting person, Moonyung! We hang out and chat and enjoy one another's company! That’s how you make friends, isn’t it? I want us to all be friends together but you’re the only one who doesn’t seem interested.’ 

Moonyung pouted. ‘What’s wrong with the friends we have?’

‘I can have more than two friends!’ 

‘Friends don’t talk  _ this  _ much, Patsy. She probably wants to fuck you, and I bet you like the attention.’ 

Patsy scoffed at the absurdity, ‘Oh, come on. You’re being completely unreasonable.’ 

‘Seriously, Patsy, when was the last time we even had sex?’

The question halted Patsy's thought process. With the  semester having just ended and the summer holiday approaching,  Patsy, Moonyung and their friends were only just getting free time again , and for the past several weeks she and everyone else had been busy and stressed finishing up their own exams and projects. She had no idea when she and Moonyung last had sex, nor did she remember the last time she had any desire to. 

‘Are you still attracted to me?’ Moonyung went on. ‘Do you even love me anymore?’ 

Patsy’s mouth said yes, but her brain said no. The last thing she found Moonyung at the moment was attractive. She knew she was lying but she would say pretty much anything to end this argument right now. 

‘Well prove it!’

‘What?’

‘Lets have sex,’ Moonyung challenged, ‘Right now.’ 

Patsy blinked, uncertain of how to respond. The last few moments had been a whirlwind of emotion that the last thing on her mind had been sex and she was quite frankly  not in  the mood for it. 

‘See, I knew it. You are cheating on me, aren’t you.’ 

‘Moonyung, no!’ 

‘God, I feel so stupid,’ Moonyung looked away, her hands coming to her face. She sniffed and sounded as if she were crying. 

Patsy remained still, completely gobsmacked and uncertain what to do. 

‘Y...you’re not stupid.’ she managed to say. 

‘No, you want to spend more time with her than you do with me and you haven’t touched me in months. You’re not attracted to me anymore…’ 

‘That’s not true.’ More lies. 

‘Patsy I don’t want you to leave me.’ Moonyung sniffed, ‘I love you so much. I’d probably kill myself if you left me.’ 

Patsy gulped. She wasn’t entirely sure if that was an empty threat or not, but she didn’t want to find that out tonight. 

‘No, Moonyung, I love you,’ Patsy forced herself to say, ‘there’s no one else for me but you…’ 

She stepped forward and placed her hands on Moonyung’s arms, slowly walking the smaller woman back towards the sofa as she leaned down to kiss her , guiding her to lie down . 

Patsy rested her body on top of Moonyung’s, settling herself in between her legs as they continued to kiss. They had been together long enough that Patsy knew just what to do to get it over with as soon as possible. 

Her mind went blank, her body on autopilot. 

* * *

It was the weekend again. 

Patsy found herself on a bench in Federal Hill. The park was atop a massive hill that overlooked the inner harbor of downtown Baltimore. The area around the water was dotted with tourists enjoying the summer weather and the 19th century ships  moored in the harbor for people to explore and admire. They all looked so small  from where Patsy was sat . Others around her were jogging or enjoying the nearby park with their dogs and kids. 

Patsy slouched on the bench, a lit cigarette dangling from her mouth as she merely stared off into space.  It was a beautiful day in a beautiful part of the city , but her mind was anywhere but in the moment where it should be, enjoying the day with her friend. 

Vanessa seemed to catch on, too. 

‘What the fuck she do now?’ Vanessa asked. She rested her head in her hand as she faced Patsy. 

‘Who?’ Patsy grunted. 

‘You know who.’ 

Patsy took a drag of her cigarette before she replied, her mind going back to  the incident that transpired the last time she had come home from hanging  out with Vanessa. Patsy shook her head to rid herself of the memory, but just the faint recollection of it all left her feeling sick to her stomach. She felt disgusted with herself, and disgusted by the thought of being touched so intimately by Moonyung. She didn’t know if she would be able to force herself to do it again. 

‘She’s been reading my texts,’ Patsy finally replied. 

‘Fuck that shit.’ Vanessa shook her head. 

‘She thinks I’m cheating on her. With you.’ 

Vanessa laughed bitterly. ‘Well if she readin’ your texts she’d know that’s not the truth.’ 

‘I don’t think that’s the problem here.’ 

‘Then what is it?’ 

‘I don’t know,’ Patsy replied, taking another drag. ‘She’s turning into something I hate.’ 

‘Something you hate  _ more _ , you mean.’ Vanessa grumbled. 

‘I thought she was controlling before, but it’s getting worse. She doesn't trust me for whatever reason, always asking where I’ve been and where I’m going. Says she feels like I don’t love or care about her anymore.’ 

‘She sounds insecure as fuck.’ 

‘I don’t know why she would be,’ Patsy sighed, blowing out a line of smoke as she scratched her head. ‘She’s beautiful, from a supportive family, talented, surrounded by love and friends and I just…’ 

‘That don’t give her no excuse to treat you the way she does. Seriously, what is preventing you from leaving this woman? I’m gettin’ mad just thinking about her treating you like this. For as long as I’ve known you, she’s made you miserable. Fuck, the night we met you only hung out with me because you didn’t want to go home to her.’ 

‘That’s not entirely true.’ 

‘Bullshit. It’s a little true. But really, every time we hang out you’re always down like this and it’s entirely because of how Moonyung treats you. So what is it? What’s stopping you? Don’t tell me you genuinely love this woman?’ 

Patsy slouched and sighed helplessly. ‘I don’t know.’ 

‘The correct answer should be  _ no _ , Patsy. Nothing about this is healthy, your girlfriend is toxic as fuck.’ 

Vanessa shifted next to Patsy on the bench, turning her body towards the water as she rested both elbows over the back. She looked rather miffed, and Patsy noted that the woman bounced her knee when she was annoyed. 

‘Patsy when was the last time you were single?’ Vanessa finally asked. ‘Like, genuinely.’ 

Patsy shook her head and shrugged. ‘I don’t remember.’ 

‘So you’ve  _ never  _ been single?’ 

‘Not since high school secondary school .’

‘Why? Are you just astonishingly lucky to always be with someone or do you just stick it out in toxic relationships until someone new comes along?’ 

Patsy remained silent, feeling guilty that Vanessa had practically hit the  nail on the head. 

‘You don’t like being alone,’ Vanessa stated. 

Patsy slouched more in her seat as she ashed her cigarette. She pouted at Vanessa, not liking being called out like this. 

‘That's it, isn't it? You always need someone around-’

‘I don’t.’

‘Yes you do. Patsy, you seriously haven't been on your own since high school? Why?’ 

Patsy bristled in her seat, not enjoying  this interrogation one bit , but the way Vanesa was looking at her led her to believe the woman just wanted to understand her. She pressed on regardless of how  un comfortable she felt.

‘Being with someone keeps me distracted,’ she replied quietly. 

‘Right, because you have nothing else going on in your life that keeps you busy, being a doctor and earning a PhD and all. Real hard time keeping yourself occupied, I bet.’ 

‘Look, I just like having someone to focus on, alright? Someone to take care of.’ 

‘Well why can’t that be you?’ 

Patsy raised an eyebrow. 

‘Seriously. Why can’t Patsy focus on Patsy for a bit? You’ve got a lot going on and it seems the emotional baggage of caring about another person as much as you have been is weighing down on you. Besides, you don't need anyone to validate your worth. She doesn't complete you. You’re a whole person just as you are.’ 

Patsy threw her cigarette butt on the ground and leaned forward, placing her head in her hands and groaning. 

‘God, this conversation is making me feel so pathetic,’ she  moaned . 

‘What? Why?’ 

‘Because I… OK, so yes, I don’t want to be alone. I’m in my 30’s already and I’ve never really truly properly  _ been  _ on my own. Never needed to fend for myself before. I’ve never even lived by myself, and I… I just… I don’t want to  _ be  _ alone…All the friends I have here, I met through Moonyung. If I leave her, they go with her, OK? She’s the only tether I’ve got to any semblance of community and family here.’ 

‘No she isn’t.’ 

Patsy sat up and looked over to Vanessa  hoping her regret was clear on her face , the night they met flooding  back . Her kindness and friendship and sharing her own patchwork of a family with her had really touched her , and she felt stupid and shelfish for not thinking  about  that patchwork of friends Vanessa had made for herself after a life of struggles. 

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean-’ 

‘I ain't got no parents. Didn’t stop me from making my own family.’ 

‘I know. You’re right.’ Patsy sighed again, biting on her nail. There was another  concern that was preventing  her from packing her bags  right now. 

Vanessa seemed to sense her trepidation. ‘What?’ 

‘It’s just… Moonyung. She… said she’d kill herself-’ 

‘Oh fuck that.’ 

‘-if I ever left her.’ 

‘No, no. Patsy, no.’ Vanessa shook her head. ‘She’s fucking lying.’ 

‘But what if she does?’ Patsy asked earnestly, looking to her friend. 

‘Patsy, no. Given everything else I’m not at all surprised she dropped that bullshit line, but I assure you she’s fucking lying. For whatever reason she’s basically going to say anything to get you to stay with her. 

‘I still care about her.’ Patsy said feebly. 

Vanessa raised an eyebrow. ‘Seriously?’

‘Well enough to not want her to kill herself!’ Patsy pleaded as Vanessa rolled her eyes. ‘I just… don’t recognize  her anymore .’ 

‘That's the thing, Patsy. She's probably always been like this. It’s just that when you see the world through rose colored glasses all the red flags just look like flags.’

Patsy sighed, her shoulders slumping. ‘I just… it wasn't always like this. I just don’t recognize what our relationship has become.’ 

‘That's because it's not a relationship.’ 

Patsy looked over to Vanessa questioningly. 

‘The telling you how to dress, who to be with, constantly trying to control your schedule, telling you there are dire consequences if you leave her… Patsy this isn't a relationship. It’s a hostage situation.’ 

Vanessa rose to her feet and began to pace back and forth with her hands on her hips, looking as if her mind was racing with thoughts. 

‘Is it money?’ she asked. ‘Is that part of it? I mean I ain’t got any but I can see what I can do if it gets you away from that woman.’ 

‘Ness, no,’ Patsy replied. She was honestly touched that Vanessa wanted to help but she didn't want to inconvenience the woman, no matter how badly she might have needed the help. 

‘You got a fuck off fund?’

Patsy blinked. ‘What’s a fuck off fund?’ 

‘It’s cash you hide away in case of situations like this where you need to get the fuck out.’ 

‘Well… I have a bit tucked away somewhere I wouldn’t want to touch unless it was an emergency.’ 

‘This is an emergency. So what, you got a few hundred under the mattress somewhere?’

‘No, more like investments. Could probably sell off some stock and roll it over.’

‘Yeah, I don’t…’ Vanessa closed her eyes and waved her hands dismissively, ‘I have no clue about how you rich Hopkins kids get your monies, all I care is that Moonyung doesn’t know it exists and it’s enough for you to get your own apartment.’ 

‘That's all well and good. The only problem is we share a bank account. She would see if there was a large deposit and wonder where it came from.’ 

‘Oh, well that’s an easy problem to solve.’ Vanessa nodded her head, motioning for Patsy to rise. ‘Come on, we’re going to Mona’s.’ 

‘Why?’ 

‘To open your own bank account, dummy. We can use her laptop to set you up, maybe even use her address to send all the paperwork so Moonyung won’t accidentally read anything in the mail. We can ask if you could stay there for a bit in case things get real bad during the breakup.’ 

Vanessa held out her hand and Patsy took it. 

‘She would do that for me?’ she asked, walking shoulder to shoulder with Vanessa towards her truck. 

‘She would absolutely do that for you. Come on.’ 

* * *

It was July 4th. 

This day wasn’t a holiday which appealed to Patsy, nonetheless she enjoyed watching the parades or attending cookouts with her friends. That evening, she and Moonyung arrived at a house party that was already in full swing in Canton, a neighborhood by the water that was known for trendy residents and their rooftop decks. It was the perfect location for admiring the fireworks that  would be  exploding over the inner harbor. 

The house belonged to a rather new acquaintance  of Moonyung’s, someone she  had met at one of her hobnobs that Patsy was forced to attend on her arm, a woman named Akilah hailing from Savannah, Georgia. She was a new graduate student of Library Sciences attending Hopkins and she was the first of  the roommates to move in. The rest would follow later in the summer before the semester began, but for now she had the house all to herself and wanted to take advantage of it. 

Music was playing as people holding drinks bustled  throughout the house and upstairs on the deck. Many were other graduate students, some Patsy recognized and some she did not. It was no matter to her as she was really only waiting for one person to show up. 

To keep herself occupied, Patsy tried to make herself useful in the kitchen with Akilah, Tracy, and Beth, the three women already chatting with a sense of familiarity as they plated food and mixed drinks. Moonyung was right by Patsy's side, something Patsy  noted she was doing  more and more whenever they went out together. She wouldn’t ever leave her alone when they went out, almost as if she didn’t trust her to be alone with other women. It bugged Patsy to no end, but whenever she confronted Moonyung about it she was met with accusations of distrust and cheating. She would exhaust Patsy to the point where Patsy defaulted and just accepted her behavior, thinking just letting her be would keep the peace and Patsy would maintain her sanity. 

‘My fathah was a teachah,’ Akilah explained in a southern drawl that was smooth as honey, ‘and my mothah stayed home to raise herself eight kids. Money was always tight but we were a happy family.’ 

‘Imagine you spent quite a bit of time at the library then,’ Patsy remarked with a kind smile. She didn’t need to look at Moonyung to know the woman was seething.

‘Indeed I did. Wouldn’t change a thing about my childhood, but I did enjoy tha peace and quiet.’ 

Akilah dug through her cupboard and removed a large shopping bag. 

‘What’s in the bayg?’ Beth asked. 

‘In the what?’ Tracy quipped, unable to contain her smirk. 

Patsy too let out a giggle as Beth narrowed her eyes at Tracy. 

‘Needed ah propah pitchah for the sweet tea,’ Akilah explained. 

‘Isn’t a little hot for tea?’ Patsy asked, watching as Akilah began to remove several lemons from the bag. 

‘Sweet tea isn’t served hot, silly,’ Akilah smiled as she removed a bag of sugar. 

‘Y’all never had no sweet tea before?’ Tracy asked, moving to fill a pot with water. 

‘Think I might  have  had it once at a Tim Hortons,’ Beth replied, looking over Tracys shoulder curiously. 

‘Hell that ain’t no tea. You’re about to get the real thing, right here,’ Tracy replied happily. 

‘Cut these up for me, would you, darlin,’ Akilah asked Patsy, handing her a knife. ‘Just toss ‘em in the pitchah.’ 

Patsy, happy to help with something that would keep her hands busy, got to work slicing lemons Beside her, Moonyung glared spitefully at Akilah with her arms crossed. She looked down to observe Patsy's work as the others chatted around them. 

‘I don’t like her calling you  _ dah-lin _ ,’ Moonyung grumbled, over exaggerating Akilah's accent. 

‘She’s just being nice,’ Patsy whispered back, already feeling tense that Moonyung was standing so close and  ready to pick a fight over nothing. She tried to focus so she wouldn’t accidentally slice a finger. 

‘You’re cutting those wrong.’ 

Patsy sighed and put down the knife. Another thing Moonyung had been doing incessantly lately was constant nitpicking and belittling of just about everything Patsy did these days. Patsy’s esteem was usually in the toilet, but Moonyung’s comments recently were making her feel more low and miserable than usual. 

‘That’s way too thick. Jesus Patsy you can’t even cut lemons right.’

‘Fine, you do it,’ Patsy huffed and whirled around. 

She was pleasantly surprised to find Vanessa and Trish standing there in the kitchen. 

‘Ness!’ 

‘Oh, there you are. Shit, thought we came to the wrong party for a second.’ 

‘Sorry we knocked but I don’t think anyone heard us,’ Trish said, looking around bashfully to the room of unfamiliar people. 

‘Oh, no need to worry about all that, sugar, y’all come on in.’ 

There was a flurry of greetings and introductions made around the small kitchen as Vanessa and Trish became acquainted with everyone. Patsy was just happy to see her two worlds really meeting for the first time. 

Moonyung hung back, looking unamused by it all. 

‘So you just go ahead and invite random people to someone else's party?’ she asked quietly. 

Patsy sighed, and led Moonyung away from the kitchen and into the living room where they could speak somewhat privately. 

‘I don’t know if you noticed, but this whole house is filled with random people,’ she started in hushed tones, ‘and these aren't random people to me. They’re my friends. Besides, I asked Akilah earlier and she said it was OK. She’s new here and wants to meet people.’ 

‘When did you get her permission?’ 

‘What does it matter? I called and asked, it’s fine.’ 

Moonyung took a step back and looked back incredulously. ‘Oh, so you have her number now too?’

Patsy groaned in frustration. 

‘How many more numbers of random women do you have in your phone, Patsy?’ 

‘They’re not random! They're our friends. I should be able to talk to anyone I like!’

‘Moonyung!’ Beth came into the living room holding a cupcake, ‘You’ve got to try one of these cupcakes Akilah made!’ 

‘No thanks,’ Moonyung sneered, turning away from Beth. 

‘Don’t fill up on sweets yet, Beth, we’re about to put dinner on the grill!’ Tracy cried, ‘Besides, the sweet tea’s ready and it’s got enough sugar to keep you up all night. You too, Patsy. Get in here!’

Patsy sighed, relieved that the commotion of the party had interrupted her and Moonyung’s tense moment. 

‘I’m going upstairs,’ Moonyung said quietly, and turned before Patsy could reply. 

Patsy looked helplessly from Moonyung walking away through the small crowd of people to Vanessa standing in the kitchen laughing with her friends. 

She wondered if she should run after her or revel in the chance to have five minutes to herself with her friends without that dark cloud glued to her hip. With a sigh, Patsy forced herself to put on a happy face and made her way to the kitchen. 

‘I can smell the sugar from here,’ Patsy remarked as she eyed the pitcher of sweet tea in Tracy’s hands suspiciously. ‘I’ll never understand why you yanks like this stuff.’ 

There was a noisy chorus of protests all at once. ‘Yo, hey now, I ain't ever-.’ ‘Yeah I’ve never really had any of that before-’ ‘Y’all only drink that down south.’ ‘Fer sure, definitely a southern thing, mmhmm.’ 

‘We gotta get you down south, y’all!’ Tracy smiled. ‘Been missing all kinds of things I can’t ever find up here. You need to try some blackened catfish and peach cobbler and all kinds of barbeque. Oh, and there ain't nothin’ like grits and biscuits with gravy for breakfast.’ 

‘I don’t even know what grits  _ are _ ,’ Patsy admitted. ‘And gravy for breakfast doesn’t sound appetizing at all.’ 

‘What’s wrong with a bit of breakfast gravy?’ Vanessa asked. 

‘Isn’t your favorite thing to eat beans on toast? Who eats beans for breakfast?’ Beth asked, looking around for consensus. 

‘Wait what? Beans for breakfast?’ Trish asked, looking confused. 

‘What’s wrong with that?’ Patsy asked defensively, feeling ganged up on. 

‘Nothing I guess,’ Trish shrugged. ‘Just be worried about fartin’ all the live long day, but you do you I guess.’ 

Vanessa tisked. ‘Weird ass Australians.’ 

‘I am going to  _ strangle  _ you,’ Patsy turned to Vanessa, who could barely hide her grin as she hid behind Trish. 

‘On that note, everyone grab a dish! We’re going upstairs!’ Akilah said. She pulled out an enormous rack of ribs from the refrigerator as plates of chopped vegetables on skewers and bowls of salad and chips and salsas were passed around. No one was empty handed as one by one they made their way to the roof of the building that was converted to a wooden deck. Mismatched patio furniture and potted flowers and ferns decorated the area,  all coming together to complement the stunning view of the city and inner harbor. Other party-goers milling about gathered around Akilah as she set her plate of meats down by the grill and lit the charcoal. 

As Akilah grilled, she and Tracy and others debated over their preferred barbeque sauce; sweet and tangy, hot and spicy. It was an enthusiastic debate that  only grew more heated t he more everyone drank. Patsy scanned the area and saw Moonyung talking with someone, casually drinking beer and pretending to be engaged in conversation even though Patsy knew she  was keeping an eye on her. Patsy chose to ignore her for now and focus on her friends who didn’t know anyone else. She noticed Trish  kept glancing at someone standing by Tracy. 

‘What’s that girls name again?’ 

‘Who?’ 

‘The one talking to Dolly Parton over there,’ she replied, gesturing to Tracy. 

‘Oh, Beth?’

‘Yeah, she..? Um, you know.’ 

Patsy raised an eyebrow. ‘What?’ 

‘She tryna ask if she’s gay, Pats.’ 

Patsy was befuddled by the  question . ‘Why do you want to know if she’s gay?’ 

‘Why do you think?’ Trish fussed with her backwards ballcap nervously. 

‘Seriously Trish?’ Vanessa  scoffed . ‘That girl’s like the human version of a casserole.’ 

‘What’s wrong with that!’ 

‘She gonna grow up to wear big sweaters with cats on them!’ 

‘So what if that's what I’m into?’ she huffed and turned to the redhead. ‘Patsy, does she go to school with you? What’s she into?’ 

‘Well she attends Peabody, plays clarinet. Likes to talk about her days in her school marching band back in Minnesota.’ 

‘Well that's all the evidence I need.’

‘Really?’ Patsy asked in disbelief as Trish walked in Beth's direction. 

Patsy blinked, rather stunned at the  audacity . 

‘Do you really think she's going to accomplish anything there?’ Vanessa asked, crossing her arms and looking after her friend. 

‘I have no bloody clue.’ 

A loud laugh from the other side of the deck drew both their attention. Patsy rolled her eyes at the sight of Moonyung, head thrown back in apparent amusement at something the girl next to her had said.

‘So...’ Vanessa rocked on her heels, her eyes following Patsys. 

‘Yeah.’ 

‘That her?’ 

‘Mmhmm.’ Patsy turned her gaze away from Moonyung, looking around desperately for something other than sweet tea to drink. Preferably alcoholic. 

‘Hmm,’ Vanessa said contemplatively. 

‘What?’

‘She cute, I’ll give her that.’ 

‘That’s about all shes got going for her right now.’ Patsy mumbled. 

‘Patsy.’

Patsy jumped at the sound of Moonyung’s voice, the woman having magically and silently appeared next to her.

‘I need to borrow you. I want you to meet someone.’ 

‘Well, can it wait a moment? I want you to meet-’

‘Vanessa, hi,’ Vanessa introduced herself and extended her hand, flashing a friendly smile. 

Moonyung simply looked at her hand, her expression  closed  and unreadable. Patsy watched as her eyes quickly trailed down and up Vanessa's figure before she turned back to Patsy. 

‘Can I talk to you for a second?’

She pulled Patsy by the arm and away from Vanessa before either could really react. Vanessa dropped her hand as Patsy was led away looking back at her apologetically. 

Once they were a safe distance away from prying ears, Moonyung rounded on Patsy, her arms crossed as she looked back at Vanessa suspiciously. ‘Whats wrong with her?’ 

_ ‘What _ ?’ Patsy asked incredulously, ‘What's wrong with  _ her _ ? You're the one being  horrendously rude and not shaking her hand. You’re embarrassing me!’ 

‘I’m not touching her. Her hands are filthy.’ 

‘That's just from her work. She's a welder or something in the army. I don't know what that entails exactly but I imagine it's not a clean job.’ 

‘And she's covered in tattoos, I mean, why? They don’t even look good.’ 

Patsy rolled her eyes.‘Christ.’ 

‘All over her neck and hands even. It's ugly. What are those giant X’s for on the back of her hands there? She looks like she’s been to prison.’ 

‘Well she hasn’t, alright? And she told me those X’s mean she's ‘straight edge’. No drinking or drugs.’ 

‘Gross. That's even more annoying. Does she think she's better than everyone else because she's sober?’ 

‘You are being incredibly shallow right now. If you’d get to know her and see beyond how she looks you’d actually like her. She's a good person.’ 

Patsy turned when she felt a hand rest on her shoulder. She was met with the sight of Vanessa's kind eyes. She looked worried. 

‘You good?’ 

Patsy sighed and took a step back. ‘Yeah, we’re alright. Just clearing some things up.'

‘Vanessa, was it? Or Ness?’ Moonyung asked. 

‘Oh, uh, usually Nessa, but Patsy for some reason is the only one who calls me Ness.’ 

Patsy nearly cringed, wishing she hadn’t said that. She could practically feel the jealousy radiating off Moonyung at the thought of her having a special nickname she called Vanessa. No going back now though. 

‘Probably just a British thing I think…’ Patsy remarked feebly, feeling herself break out into a cold sweat despite the muggy summer heat. 

Her muttering went ignored. 

‘Patsy tells me you’re in the army,’ Moonyung said, looking Vanessa down and up again as she crossed her arms, holding her drink in one hand. 

‘Ah, yeah. Just a little over four years now. Two to go.’ 

Patsy breathed a sigh of relief, glad that these two had finally met and Moonyung was engaging Vanessa in casual conversation. So far so good. 

Moonyung hummed, seeming disinterested as she sipped her drink. ‘So you kill people for a living?’ 

Vanessa flashed an incredulous look to Patsy, and Patsy felt anxiety flair in her chest like a wild flame. 

_ ‘Moonyung _ ,’ she said warningly. 

‘What? That’s what they do.’ 

‘You bloody well know it’s not-’

‘Ah, yeah, nope,’ Vanessa broke in with an awkward smile. ‘Never killed anyone. The dumbass boys in the field break things and I fix them, pretty much. I wear a tool belt, not a gun holster.’

‘OK but you’re part of an institution that systematically and unnecessarily invades countries and kills civilians funded by the massive military industrial complex we have here. The fact you’re part of it makes you accountable for the unwarranted deaths of thousands of people.’ 

Vanessa gave a tired sigh like she had heard it all before. 

‘No, I’m serious, you joined up knowing you’d be entangled in these forever wars that were started over lies and oil, all for what, some sense of false patriotism?’ 

Vanessa laughed darkly, ‘Girl, there aint nobody I ever met in my time in the army that joined out of a sense of patriotism. The military is one of the last places kids like me can go and have a chance of making it, alright? Shit, this aint the boomer days where you could walk to the factory and get a job that lasts for 40 years.’ 

‘That’s not true at all, you have every opportunity to go to school, learn a trade, something.’ 

‘With what money?’ 

‘There’s always loans, financial aid, scholarships...’ 

‘Right like going into massive debt for an education is a great idea. What bank would even give a high school dropout money for college?’ 

‘Well you don’t have to go to college, per se, but in California-’ 

‘This ain’t California, alright? Fuck, man, scholarships and loans are not an option for everyone, and I sure as shit don’t have any family to fall back on for money. The army is the only place where I could have a roof over my head and three meals a day and they’d  _ pay me _ to go to school and learn a trade. That was my only option to get my life straight. Jesus, fuck, why is that so hard to understand?’ 

‘You’re calling me dumb?’ Moonyung asked incredulously. ‘You just said you didn't even finish high school.'

Vanessa gave a frustrated sigh. ‘Right. I’m out.’ 

‘Good,’ Moonyung snapped back. ‘Shit, hope she takes that lumberjack with her.’ 

Patsy looked from Moonyung to Vanessa's retreating form, shocked to silence at the conversation that had just transpired in front of her. 

When Vanessa finally disappeared and slammed the door behind her, Patsy whirled back around to Moonyung. The woman looked rather smug for having chased Vanessa away. 

‘You’re bloody unbelievable.’ 

‘Why?’ Moonyung shrugged. ‘What I can’t believe is how you were ever able to be friends with someone like her in the first place.’ 

‘Why wouldn’t I be? She’s a genuinely kind person and a good friend. You’d be able to see that if you weren’t a total bitch right off the bat.’ 

‘A good person who kills people for a living,’ Moonyung mumbled behind her drink. 

‘That’s a gross oversimplification and you know it. She made her argument quite clear.’ 

‘Why are you defending her? What do you get out of being friends with her anyway?’

‘What does that bloody mean? It’s not a give and take, we’re not business partners. We’re friends because we genuinely enjoy one another's company.’ 

‘Yeah, but I mean, she’s not… like us.’ 

Patsy narrowed her eyes skeptically, ‘What do you mean by that?’ 

‘You  _ know  _ what I mean, Patsy. High school dropout, a grunt in the military...’ Moonyung swirled her drink in the direction of where Vanessa had stalked off, ‘if shes not hanging around to fuck you then she probably thinks you’re loaded and’ll give her money.’ 

‘Unbelievable,’ Patsy said through gritted teeth. 

‘I just…’ Moonyung sighed, seeming to struggle to find the words. ‘I just don’t see the value in associating with her.’

Patsy turned her head, unable to stand the sight of Moonyung. She was so angry, so livid, she was rendered speechless. She could hardly comprehend that anyone would see any relationship lacking in value just because no one got anything out of it other than true enjoyment and companionship. Moonyung could only see the value in sustaining a relationship with someone  if there was something in it for her. Prestige, degrees, schools, meeting and getting in with the best new person and cliques was all that Moonyung cared about, and Patsy had played a part in getting Moonyung that new step up in life on more than one occasion. 

She felt duped. This entire time she was being used and she felt so stupid for letting it go on this long, for genuenly thinking that Moonyung actually loved her. She hated herself at that moment. She needed to get herself out of this situation, and this relationship. 

‘Come on, babe, let’s get back to the party, hmm?’ Moonyung asked softly, taking a step closer to Patsy, ‘maybe let your hair down and let all our friends see  how pretty you look? ’ 

Moonyung twirled her finger around the end of Patsy’s ponytail. Patsy smacked her hand away and took a step back. 

‘Stop bloody telling me what to do!’ she snapped. 

‘Whoa Patsy, what-’

‘Stop touching me! Can I just have agency over my own body? Over my own life for once?!’ 

‘Jesus Patsy, what the fuck are you talking about?’ 

‘You know bloody well what I’m talking about! You're always telling me how to wear my hair and how to dress! Now you’re telling who I can and can’t be friends with?! You want to control every aspect of my life and I’m fucking sick of it!’ 

Patsy was shaking with anger, and relief. She was finally able to get off her chest what had been building up within her for months now, moreso since the night Vanessa came into her life. 

If it hadn’t been for her, Patsy didn't think she would have ever found the courage to stand up for herself, She had to go and thank the woman. 

‘If Vanessa’s anything, she’s smarter than me, that’s for sure,’ Patsy spat. 

Moonyung scoffed, ‘Why do you say that?’ 

‘Because she left!’ 

Patsy, red faced and seething with anger, turned on her heel and headed for the stairs. 

‘Wait, what?’ Moonyung called after her. ‘Patsy, what’s everyone going to think if you leave the party?’ 

Patsy stopped and glared at Moonyung. ‘I don’t mean the party. I mean  _ you _ .’ 

Patsy turned and left Moonyung looking bewildered and unsure of what to do with herself. 

The crack and whistle of a firework being launched into the air behind them cut through the tense moment, and a dazzling red firework exploded in the air above them, capturing everyone's attention. The boom that followed was so loud that all conversations halted, and everyone's gaze remained fixed above as a myriad of sparkling colours filled the sky. 

Patsy slipped out while everyone was distracted, her mind focused and going over her next steps as she hailed a cab and made her way back to her apartment. In a determined fury, she packed a suitcase with some clothing, her laptop, and any important papers and books. She didn’t care anymore that all the furniture was hers, or the kitchen appliances, and that she had been the one to buy all the decorations and the one to hang photos and do anything else that made it some semblance of a home for the two of them. The money and effort she had put into this place was a small price to pay now for her freedom. 

Patsy walked with her guitar strapped to her back and her suitcase rolling by her side. Her mind was focused on her next steps as she resisted the urge to check her phone. She had silenced the thing but could feel it buzzing in her pocket every few moments, knowing it was probably Moonyung  trying to  convince her not to leave. It wasn’t going to work. Patsy was adamant about not being guilted or manipulated into staying with such a horrible person. She wanted to kick herself for being so complacent for so long. 

She didn’t even stop to think about her actions until she was knocking on the door to Mona's house, relieved at the sight of Vanessa's truck parallel parked in the street nearby. Patsy stood there on the stoop catching her breath, feeling the adrenaline drain from her system as she waited. 

Vanessa opened the door, looking surprised as she gave Patsy a once over. 

‘What are you-’

‘I did it,’ Patsy gulped, feeling very much like a deer in headlights. Her brain stopped working. 

She was so tired and just so done feeling as miserable as she had been for however many months this had been dragging  on.

Patsy clenched her teeth and felt the prickling behind her eyes. Hot tears streamed down her face as she struggled to remain composed,  trying not to just fall apart. 

‘I need help,’ she said, her voice cracking. The three words strung together was somehow the hardest thing she had needed to say out loud for quite some time. 

Without hesitation, Vanessa pulled Patsy in for a tight embrace. 

‘You got it,’ she replied. 

Patsy sobbed for several moments, the weight of the world lifting off her shoulders with each wave of tears that spilled over her eyelids. She was terrified, yet also relieved. She had finally made that first step of leaving Moonyung, but she had no idea what to do next. One thing she didn't want to be was more of a burden than she already had been. 

‘I’m sorry.’ Patsy stepped away, giving a sniff as she harshly wiped her tears with the back of her hand. 

‘Girl, what you saying sorry for?’ 

‘Just for this. For all those terrible things Moonyung said. For having to deal with me…’ Patsy stopped herself before another round of tears escaped. She lowered her head and sniffed as a wave of shame came over her. She was a grown woman standing on the doorstep of her friends house crying. She probably looked terribly pathetic. 

‘Nah, Pats, listen,’ Vanessa pulled away and placed both her hands on Patsy's shoulders. She dipped her head to make eye contact with the redhead. ‘Hey, you’re safe here. You’re family now, alright? We look after family in this house.’ 

Patsy nodded shyly as Vanessa pulled her in for another crushing hug. She couldn’t help but laugh, rediscovering what it felt like having family and being cared for. She didn't know how much she had missed it until that moment, and of all the people in the world she couldn’t have asked for a better person than Vanessa to help her find it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this far. I think I've kept you people waiting long enough, so genuine fluffy pupcake coming your way next chapter. Stay tuned.


	12. Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So for once in my life  
> Let me get what I want  
> Lord knows, it would be the first time

Delia watched as Patsy snapped a few twigs and threw them into the chiminea that filled her little patio with a soft orange glow. 

The sun had set and the party had died down considerably. The guests who had children, the Turners and Noakes, had made their excuses to put their kids to bed and get them ready for the week ahead and left in a gracious state, thanking her and Patsy for the meal and a good time. Some of the others had filtered out too, the neighbors and other nurses who had popped in to wish Delia a happy birthday, and to congratulate Patsy for settling in and welcome her to the Nonnatus team. 

It just left their little group of friends sitting out in the garden to rest and sip a cool glass of wine and listen to Patsy as she relayed the tale of how Vanessa had come into her life. 

Delia remained quiet, as did the rest of her friends. She focused on Patsy's face as she finished telling them the details of her poor relationship with this terrible ex of hers. She imagined the kind of strength it took for someone to leave a situation like that. 

It made Delia see Patsy in a new light. 

‘Then what happened?’ Trixie asked, breaking the silence. ‘What happened to you and Moonyung?’ 

Payst snapped another twig and threw it into the chiminea, standing and rubbing her arm awkwardly, looking shy as she turned towards the rather stunned faces of her friends. 

‘Well, that was it, wasn’t it? Blocked her number and kicked her off all my social media accounts.’ 

‘And what did you do? Did you have to find a new place?’ Barbara asked. 

Patsy shook her head, ‘Stayed with Mona the weekend and came back to find Monyung had just cleared out. Reckon she managed to use one of her connections to find a place of her own or live with someone else. Didn’t really keep up with her too much after that unless I really needed to reach out to her. Last time I saw her I gave her a box of her things just before I came back to London. That was the last of it.’ 

‘So did you stay friends with Tracy and Beth?’ 

‘Oh, yeah, Tracy and Beth stuck around. Felt bad for them because I didn’t want them to get caught up in all our drama but they were pretty understanding. They didn’t disappear along with Moonyung like I thought they would. They’re doing alright.’ 

Patsy scratched her head, thinking, ‘Ness on the other hand had to deploy early last year. Spent the christmas holidays with her and Trish and her enormous family before Ness left. Missed her a ton but she still managed to help me quit smoking and really just focus on completing my PhD.’ 

‘How'd she manage that?’ Lucille asked, ‘maybe she could give this one some motivation,’ she said, gently elbowing Valerie in the ribs. 

‘Reckoned if she had the strength to do what she's doing over there then I could find it within myself to put down my bloody cigarettes, couldn’t I?’ 

It was then that Vanessa emerged through the back door freshly showered, wearing a clean shirt and jeans. 

‘Oh, man, it feels so fucking good to wear jeans again,’ she breathed a sigh of relief as all eyes turned towards the new person. ‘Man they had us weating nothing but our ABUs or PT gear that whole fucking time I forgot what blue even looked like.’ 

The military jargon went over Delia’s head but she imagined Vanessa was referring to uniforms. 

Her eyes darted to Patsy, who was looking back at Vanessa with a look of utmost love and adoration for her friend. 

‘Glad to hear it.’ she remarked, her face breaking out into a grin as Vanessa moved to stand by her side, ‘How are you? Truly?’ 

Vanessa reached out and grasped Patsy by the arms, ‘I’m alive, man. I’m alive!’ she shouted. 

The two women were reduced to a happy laughter and enveloped one another in a tight hug once more. 

‘Oh man, look at you!’ Vanessa remarked, taking a step back and giving Patsy a once over, ‘You’ve got a house! You’ve got a fucking garden, man, holy- what the- is that a carrot?! Holy shit!’ 

Patsy let out a hearty laugh and gave her friend a quick tour of the garden. Delia hid a smile behind her hand, finding their joy rather contagious. She was happy to get a glimpse into Patsy's personal life for reasons which she could not explain. She just knew seeing Patsy happy made her happy. 

‘Oh, but hey, Pats, I wanted to tell ya, I was in your kitchen and saw like a bunch of eggs just sitting there on the counter for some reason? I put them all in your refrigerator so they wouldn’t go bad.’ 

Vanessa gave Patsy a hearty pat on the shoulder like she had done the woman a huge favor. Valerie turned her head and let out a raspberry, finding the idea absurd. 

‘You don’t have to do that here,’ Patsy said. 

‘Nah, it was no trouble. By the way where's your basement? Just wanted to throw a few things in the laundry if that’s OK. Fuckin socks mysteriously dissapeared on the way here so I’ve just got the one pair.’ 

‘I don’t have a basement.’ 

‘What? Really? Why not?’ 

‘I just don’t. Basements aren't a thing here.’ 

‘Well there the fuck do you do your laundry?’ 

‘The washers in the kitchen there. You walked right past it.’ 

‘Wait, what?’ Vanessa looked genuinely confused. ‘You do your laundry in the kitchen?’ 

There was a round of consensus from the others in the group, all nodding their heads or mumbling affirmations. 

‘What's wrong with your American eggs that they need to go in the fridge?’ Valerie asked. 

Vanessa quirked an eyebrow at Valerie, ‘Huh?’

‘You don’t need to store eggs in the refrigerator here,’ Patsy explained. 

‘What? Why the fuck not? Aren’t you worried they’ll go bad?’ 

‘Dunno. We just don’t.’

‘So y’all just leave your eggs out and wash your nasty drawers in the kitchen?’ 

‘Anything else you’d like to criticize us for?’ Patsy crossed her arms challengingly. 

‘Yeah, like, why the fuck y’all say cheers all the time? Every English dude I met on base was all _cheers_ this cheers that. Like, what are you celebrating?!’ Vanessa asked, looking around. 

‘We do say cheers a lot,’ Trixie remarked. 

‘Why don’t I formally introduce you?’ Patsy asked, stealthily changing the subject. She placed a hand on Vanessa's shoulder and pointed with her other hand, ‘This here is Lucille.’

Vanessa's interest was immediately piqued, and she slid right in next to Lucille, sitting on the bench beside her. ‘Yo, hey girl.’ 

Delia blinked, mesmerised as Vanessa turned on the charm. She watched as the two women shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. She didn’t think she had ever seen Lucille smile so brightly. 

‘My, somebody works with their hands,’ Lucille grinned, and there was no mistaking the immediate chemistry between the two women. 

Delia’s eyes shot to Valerie, and she watched as the woman's nostrils flared, her jaw clenching as she witnessed this salacious flirting happen in front of her. 

‘Wow, girl, why you sound like Rhianna?’ 

Lucille laughed, ‘Might have something to do with being from the same part of the world.’ 

‘You’re from Barbados, too?” 

‘Close, Jamaica. Ever been?’ 

Valerie stepped in and shouted ‘I’m Valerie!’

It was a bombardment of noise and confusion for the whole group and everyone watched her hover over them silently, not knowing quite how to react. 

After a moment, Vanessa replied. ‘Uh, hi-’

‘I’m from an island too!’ Valerie interrupted, her voice just as loud as before. 

‘Val, sweetie, you don’t have to be so abrasive,’ Trixie interjected giving her friend a oncerned glance. 

‘Oh, cool man, which one?’ Vanessa asked. 

There was a long pause. Valerie blinked. 

‘...This one.’ 

Lucille silently rested a hand on Valerie's arm and gave her an encouraging smile, and that seemed to relax Valerie a bit. She shifted on her feet and her demeanour changed slightly. 

Valerie gave a curt nod. ‘Alright?’ 

‘Uh, yeah, I’m fine. How are you?’ 

Patsy gently smacked her own forehead. ‘Should have prepped you before you arrived.’ 

‘Why? What did I do?’ 

‘The appropriate response to ‘Alright’ is ‘Alright’.’ 

‘...Why?’ 

‘Just is.’ 

‘S’alright bruv.' Valerie shrugged. 'Didn’t mean to be so bait stepping in like that. Yous two look peng together ya know, if you wanna carry on patternin the ting then I’ll ‘llow it. Anyways, Pats’s party was kickin but we all know it’s about Deels today innit? Doesn’t feel like a younger to me no more ya know, now that she’s another year older.’

Vanessa looked from Valerie to Patsy helplessly. 

‘Valerie, speak normal,’ Patsy implored. 

Delia stifled a giggle finding this whole exchange one of the most amusing moments of the evening and a welcome reprieve from the sad story Patsy had been telling earlier. 

‘Don’t you start,’ Patsy pointed an accusatory, albeit lighthearted, finger in Delia’s direction. 

‘What? I’m not starting anything,’ Delia replied innocently, biting her lip and trying very hard to look serious. 

‘I can hear you giggling over there.’ 

Delia covered her smile. ‘I’m not.’

‘Yes you are. You’re giggling right now,’ Patsy smirked. ‘I won't allow it.’ 

‘Well don’t point it out!’ Delia hid her face behind her hand, feeling herself turn red. ‘You’ll just make it worse!’ 

‘You’re Delia,’ Vanessa remarked. Delia suddenly felt the heat intensify in her cheeks and it wasn’t because of the wine. 

Delia raised an eyebrow at Patsy who looked away shyly. She hoped it didn’t show on her face just how quickly her heart was beating knowing one of the most important people in Patsy’s life already knew about her. 

‘I see my reputation precedes me,’ Delia finally replied. 

Vanessa gave a side eye to Patsy. 

Patsy whispered something to Vanessa warningly. Delia couldn't hear her but her mouth looked like it was saying _don't you give me that look._

‘Do you know _our_ names?’ Trixie asked, placing a hand on her hip. ‘Or were we not important enough, hmm?’ 

'Oh, erm no sorry, Trix. Ness, this is Trixie and Barbara.' 

Trixie turned her nose in the air. 'I see how it is.' 

‘Oh, Trixie, don’t take it personally,’ Barbara remarked, looking back to Patsy. ‘And you, stop teasing the birthday girl!’ 

Patsy looked affronted. ‘I’m not!’

‘You bloody well are!’ 

‘I think to make amends you ought to offer her something,’ Trixie added blithely. 

‘Offer her what? I haven’t got anything.’

‘Well think of something! You’re the smart one here!’ Barbara remarked. 

Patsy slumped her shoulders and grumbled. ‘I hate it when people say that.’ 

‘Don’t you have a party trick?’ Trixie asked. 

‘Yes, I agree. Patsy what is your party trick?’ Lucille added. 

‘Don't have one.’ 

‘Yes you do, everyone has one,’ Barbara said. ‘I want to see.’ 

‘You totally have one,’ Vanessa chimed in. 

‘No I don’t,’ Patsy insisted. 'And I don't appreciate being put on the spot here!'

‘What are you talking about?' Vanessa went on, ignoring Patsy, ‘I mean that thing-’

‘Sh-sh-sh, nope.’ Patsy shook her head and moved to place a finger over Vanessa's lips. ‘That doesn't count.’ 

‘Oh now I really want to know,’ Barbara interjected. 

‘That totally counts!’ Vanessa replied incredulously. 

‘How about I play a song!’ Patsy said loudly and quickly. ‘On the guitar. Delia’s choice.’ 

Everyone looked to Delia, and she felt herself sit a bit straighter in her chair with all eyes on her. She swirled her wine contemplatively before she replied, rather enjoying leaving the group in a state of suspense. 

‘I’ll allow it,’ she replied curtly. 

Patsy quickly disappeared inside to retrieve her guitar and was back before anyone could cajole Vanessa into revealing Patsy's secret party trick. 

Patsy returned to Delia’s side as a bottle of wine was passed around and everyone topped themselves off. 

'Alright, Delia,’ Patsy began as she strapped the guitar around herself. ‘What would you like to hear?’

‘Oh, I’ve no idea,’ Delia replied, taking a sip of her wine. 

‘She specifically said it was _Delia’s_ choice,’ Barbara remarked with a pointed finger in the air. 

‘Well someone choose for me.’ Delia shrugged. ‘I haven’t got a bloody clue.’ 

‘Choose _for_ you?’ Valerie griped. ‘How are we supposed to know what you’d want to hear?’ 

‘You’re my flatmate! You should know what kind of music I listen to!’ 

‘You put your earbuds in all the bloody time!’ Valerie retorted. ‘And when you don’t you’re only ever listening to podcasts on the history of the feather duster or some boring bullshit like that.’ 

‘Like you even know what a feather duster is!’ 

‘She have any CD’s?’ Lucille asked Valerie. 

‘Right, when’s the last time you saw one of them things laying around? Not like I can go an’ snoop on her itunes.’ 

There was a beat of silence where no one said anything, and Patsy motioned to strum her guitar. 

‘Well anyway, here’s Wonderwall!’ she said with a grin.

‘No!’ everyone but Vanessa shouted all at once. 

‘How about that one song you taught Tracy to play that one time?’ Vanessa asked. 

Patsy idly strummed a ditty as she replied. ‘You mean the one she completely bombed at the gay bar?’ 

‘You know she's gon be playing that at Beth and Trish’s wedding.’ 

Patsy gasped, completely gobsmacked. 

Vanessa nodded. ‘I know, she’s gotten much better last I heard.’ 

‘They’re getting married?!’ Patsy said in disbelief. 

‘Yeah, I know right?’ Vanessa waved her hand dismissively. ‘They’re moving back to Minnesota and Trish is gonna build them a tiny house next to some lake. Raise chickens and shit like that.’ 

‘Bloody hell,’ Patsy replied, looking mystified. ‘Didn’t think either of them had it in them.’ 

‘Seems Trish is really into Beth's rhubarb pies,’ Vanessa grinned sleepily as she slouched more comfortably in her chair. 

‘Um, excuse me, I thought we were supposed to be focusing on me right now,’ Delia interjected, playfully pouting at Patsy. 

‘Oh, my apologies Dr. Busby,’ Patsy replied, moving to hold her guitar properly again. 

‘Thank you,’ Delia replied, sitting straighter in her chair and holding up her glass of wine. 

‘Have you thought about what you would like me to play?’ Patsy strummed a few more chords as she awaited Delia’s reply. 

‘Oh, Patsy I don’t know.’ Delia waved her hand. ‘I can’t think of anything. Whatever you last listened to, I guess.’ 

‘You sure? It’s The Smiths.’ 

‘Oh, _what_ ?’ Valerie cried , her expression painfully upset. ‘But Morrissey is _such_ a tosser! Bleedin’ dizzy UKIP cunt.’

‘Uh, OK,’ Patsy placed a hand on her hip, ‘he is _now_ but he wasn’t so much back in the 80’s, alright? An artist's music _can_ be completely independent of their politics.’ 

‘Still can’t believe you listen to that twat,’ Valerie rumbled? 

‘Shut UP Val!’ Trixie scolded. ‘None of us have had the chance to listen to Patsy play yet and I want to hear!’ 

There was a consensus of agreement from the group. Valerie rolled her eyes, crossed her arms and harrumphed, but she kept her mouth shut. A moment passed where everyone waited silently, staring expectantly at Patsy. 

Patsy closed her eyes and looked away from everyone. ‘I truly dislike singing in front of people,’ she mumbled low enough so that only Delia could hear. 

Delia leaned back in her seat and looked up at Patsy. Pink cheeks, brows knitted in concern. It was the first time Delia could recall ever seeing the woman look truly nervous. 

‘Hey,’ she said softly. 

Patsy opened her eyes and looked at her.

‘What are you going to play? Do I know it?’ 

‘You might…’ 

‘How about you start and I’ll join in if I know the words?’ 

Still Patsy hesitated. 

‘ _Pretend it’s just me here_ ,’ Delia whispered. 

A shy smile graced Patsy's lips, and she nodded. With a sigh, she strummed the intro and Delia grinned, recognizing the song immediately. 

_Good time for a change_

_See, the luck I've had_

_Can make a good man_

_Turn bad_

Delia joined in, the lyrics coming back to her. 

_So please please_ _please_

_Let me, let me, let me_

_Let me get what I want_

_This time_

Delia closed her eyes and swayed along to Patsy’s strumming with the little musical interlude, enticing a smile from the redhead. Delia was just happy that she seemed more relaxed. 

_Haven't had a dream in a long time_

_See, the life I've had_

_Can make a good man bad_

_So for once in my life_

_Let me get what I want_

_Lord knows, it would be the first time_

_Lord knows, it would be the first time_

Patsy strummed the tune for another moment until she properly ended the song, and was met with applause and an enthusiastic whistle from someone in their little group of friends. 

Barbara was the first to comment. ‘Patsy, that was marvelous!’ 

‘Didn’t know you could play so well!’ Trixie remarked. 

‘What else do you know?’ Lucille asked. 

Valerie chimed in, ‘Are you talking requests?’ 

‘Yeah, I’ve got one for ya, Val,’ Patsy replied, turning toward Valerie as she cleared her throat and began to strum again, singing monotone. 

_Do you have the time, to listen to me whine._

‘Fuck off,’ Valerie quipped as the others began to giggle. 

_About nothing and everything all at once_

‘Cunt.’ In a huff, Valerie turned on her heel and headed into the house, slamming the back door behind her. 

‘Oh, shit, Val!’ Patsy cried, sighing. ‘I was just taking the piss out of her. Didn’t think she’d be upset.’ 

‘It’s alright Patsy, she probably deserved it,’ Trixie remarked. 

Patsy set down her guitar. ‘I’ll go check on her.’ 

‘No, it’s OK Patsy, let me go talk to her,’ Lucille said, raising a hand and rising from her seat. ‘I’ll see what's the matter.’ 

Lucille disappeared into the house and Trixie brought a cigarette to her mouth. 

‘Oh, Trixie,’ Barbara said, ‘please, if you’re going to do that, do it somewhere else.’ 

Trixie was the second person to leave the group in a huff. 

From her spot in her chair, Delia looked over to Patsy to see her and Vanessa already off and chatting about something or other she couldn’t quite make out. She was left sitting alone with Barbara, who had already pulled out her phone to check her texts. 

Feeling a little deflated after the high of sharing such a nice moment with Patsy, Delia decided now would be a good time to use the loo as everyone else seemed preoccupied. 

Silently, Delia made her way back into the house. 

* * *

‘Val?’ Lucille called into the empty house. When she didn’t find Valerie in the kitchen she walked through the dining room and lounge. Finding no trace of her there either, she rested a hand on the bannister and called up, ‘Valerie?’ 

‘Yeah?’ came a recalcitrant reply. 

Lucille climbed the stairs to find Valerie in Patsy’s office, mindlessly exploring the woman's books and looking quite cross. Lucille wondered if she were even reading the spines or if she just wanted to look busy while she stewed in her discontent. 

‘Hey, what’s the matter?’ she asked gently. 

‘Nothing,’ Valerie responded petulantly. She huffed, shoving a book back on the shelf. ‘Sorry,’ Valerie said. ‘Didn't mean to have a fit down there. I just…’

Lucille entered the room as Valerie pulled a book off the shelf and flicked through it. To their surprise, a photograph fell out and landed on her feet. 

Valerie picked it up and gave it a once over. ‘Wonder who this is.’ 

‘Val, don’t go snooping.’

‘I’m not, really. Didn’t do it on purpose. It just fell out.’ 

The two looked at the photograph, what looked like a photobooth reel that had been ripped in half. It showed Patsy, smiling with some girl with long brunette hair giving a wide grin and making a peace sign. 

‘She kind of looks like Delia,’ Valerie remarked. 

Lucille raised an eyebrow. 

‘Well obviously she’s got that one glaring difference of being, you know, Asian,’ Valerie went on, ‘but I mean, the smile, the hair…’ 

‘You think… Does Patsy have a type?’ Lucille asked. 

‘Pfft, well I mean, she’d have to fancy Delia for that to be true, wouldn’t it?’

Lucille remained silent and blinked up at Valerie, giving the woman a moment to connect the dots. 

‘What. What?’ Valerie asked, quirking an eyebrow. ‘Does Patsy fancy Delia?’

Lucille gave a despondent sigh. 

‘What? Am I being dense?’ 

‘You have no idea.’ 

Lucille looked down, hoping to conceal any feelings that may be portrayed on her face. She had the biggest crush on Valerie, but in all the time she had known her, the woman had never even hinted that she felt the same. No flirting or anything, not that Lucille could read anyway. Valerie was always present, always there when Lucille needed her. She was such a good friend, which made Lucille wonder if that’s all she wanted from their relationship. It had made Lucille feel very much wanted and desired when Patsy’s friend had flirted with her earlier, that she couldn’t help but flirt back, just to see how Valerie would react, but she didn’t know what to make of it. She couldn’t tell if she was jealous, or if she just wanted the attention of the new person in the group. 

Wanting answers she knew she would never get, Lucille decided to cut her losses. Maybe it was time to move on. 

Slowly, she began to turn away. ‘Come on, we should...’ Lucille stopped when she felt Valerie reach for her hand. She looked to the taller woman and was surprised to see her looking back so earnestly. 

‘Wait, what… what does that mean?’ 

The stairs creaked, and Valerie let go. 

Lucille felt her heart leap in her throat as Delia appeared before them. She wondered if she had heard any of that. Valerie seemed similarly petrified, standing still beside her, barely breathing. 

‘Everything alright?’ Delia asked, looking around, somewhat distracted. 

Valerie gave a small nod. ‘Just having a bit of a chat.’ 

‘Er, right. Don’t let me interrupt you. Just looking for the toilet.’ 

‘It’s in the bedroom there.’ Valerie pointed to what Lucille could only assume was Patsy's bedroom. The door was cracked open, and from the light in the hallway they could only see the corner of a chest of drawers and a made bed with a dark and cozy looking duvet, neatly tucked over the corner of the mattress. 

‘Uh, yeah,’ Delia replied, nervously smoothing down her skirt with her hands. ‘Don’t how I feel about walking through Patsy's room. Feels too personal,’ she finished with an awkward smile. 

‘There might be one on the top floor,’ Lucille offered, finally finding her voice. Though she wondered if it were more that she wanted Delia to leave so she could escape back downstairs with the others. ‘Think I heard one of Shelagh's kids mention it earlier.’

‘How would they know?’ Valerie asked. 

‘Oh you know children,’ she replied, reaching up to pluck a piece of lint off Valerie's shoulder, ‘always needing to explore and get their hands on everything.’ 

Delia mumbled a thanks and headed up the stairs one more flight, leaving the two women standing silently there in the doorway to Patsy's office. The space between them was filled with tension so many things being left unsaid, at least that's how Lucille felt anyway. She shifted on her feet and looked away hoping Valerie didn't notice how uncomfortable she was. 

Lucille found the courage to look up at Valerie with an awkward smile. ‘Right. Well… Come on, we should get back.’ 

‘Wait,’ Valerie said quietly, resting a hand on Lucille's arm, halting her movements. ‘You… you like me, right?’ 

‘Val…’ Lucille sighed, unsure of what to say. Of all the bloody moments they had had alone together before now to bring this up, she had to pick this one. They were at a party with friends who would probably start to wonder where they’d gotten to. It only made Lucille more anxious.

She looked up at the brunette and was surprised by the earnestness in her eyes, a sense of needing to be sure, or needing to hear how Lucille honestly felt. 

‘I like you very much.’ Lucille sighed, ‘More than you think.’ 

‘Lou, can you tell me what that means?’ 

Lucille looked down and licked her lips. 

Why did it feel like she was risking everything in this moment? By being honest? Wasn’t that the best thing to do right now anyway? Especially since Valerie was finally asking? Lucille reckoned that this might have been the moment she had been waiting for since she first laid eyes on Valerie. 

‘It means… ever since I arrived here in London, you were the first person I met, and you’ve been absolutely wonderful ever since. You’ve made me feel like I have a home here. Like I belong here and… I truly feel I’ve found my best friend... ‘ 

Valerie searched her face, her eyes darting back and forth desperately trying to read her features. ‘But?’ 

‘But… I might want more than that and I don’t want to ruin… I don’t know if you… want that too.’ Lucille clenched her jaw. She could feel herself shaking, her nerves thundering in her chest and temples as she waited for Valerie to respond, to react in any kind of way but she was too much of a coward to look the woman in the eye. 

‘Oh Lou, I’m so sorry...’ 

Lucille squeezed her eyes shut, crushed. Absolutely crushed. 

‘It's alright,’ she choked out. ‘I should have known you didn’t… just forget I said anything.’ 

‘No! Lou, wait, I just… I mean…’ Valerie looked around panicked, looking as if something were slipping away from her and she was desperately trying to hold on. ‘I’m sorry I never said anything. I felt the same. I was a coward and I didn’t want to say anything and fuck it all up and I… I just…’ 

Lucille rested a hand on Valerie's chest, silencing her, feeling her heartbeat. For a long moment she merely listened to her breathing calm, though her heart continued to beat furiously against her hand. 

‘You just what?’ she asked quietly, her chest swelling with a feeling of hope. 

Valerie leaned forward, shyly placing her head on Lucille's shoulder, apparently not knowing where to put her hands until they settled on Lucille's hips. 

She took a deep breath and finally said, ‘I’m just in love with you. Have been this whole time.’ 

Lucille broke out into a huge grin, burrowing her own face into the crook of Valerie's neck as her arms wrapped around her waist. ‘I love you too, you idiot.’

The two women shared a laugh and several sighs of relief. Lucille was kicking herself for letting it all drag out this long, but she was happy that everything was finally out in the open. As she squeezed Valerie tight and took in her warmth and smell, she promised herself to never let it get this bad again. 

After a moment, Lucille felt Valerie pull away, her hand moving from her hip to cradle her head, gently tipping her head back as she caressed her cheek with her thumb. 

Lucille closed her eyes, turning her head slightly to place a soft kiss on the palm of Valerie's hand, smiling as she heard her take a nervous gulp. She decided she enjoyed getting a reaction out of the women. She felt her own knees grow weak and sighed blissfully as Valerie gently pressed her lips to hers. She pulled away and kissed her again, and again, and again. Each kiss slower, more sensual than the last. 

She could hear footsteps, but without missing a beat, Valerie shut the door to Patsy’s office and walked Lucille backward until she was pressed up against a bookshelf. Lucille sighed, revelling in the feeling of Valerie finally kissing her, her body so close against her. It was all heavenly. Her body was growing warm, all her nerve endings waking up and every inch of her skin wanting to be touched. Lucille didn’t care if anyone walked in, didn’t care that they were in their friend’s home office. She gasped happily as Valerie's hand trailed its way under her shirt to feel the sensitive skin beneath. 

* * *

Trixie stood next to Patsy’s shed facing the fence, away from Barbara who was contently giggling at whatever _stupid_ video her _stupid_ boyfriend, Tom, had just texted her. She didn’t see why the woman had to banish her to the far side of the garden for wanting one bloody cigarette. 

Trixie wouldn’t admit it to herself, but she greatly resented the relationship between Barbara and Tom. In particular was the little detail that Tom used to be _her_ boyfriend, until he left her for Barbara. No, no, there was no cheating or love triangle going on, but when he and Trixie would go out, she could tell his mind was elsewhere. It was no shock when he tried to let her down as gently as possible, stating that he had feelings for another. When Trixie confronted him about it being Barbara, he confessed. They were a better match, he said, for reasons that were unclear to Trixie at the time. She was able to corner Barbara one day and in the sweetest way possible managed to cajole that reason out of her. 

Asexual. They were both asexual. 

Trixie seethed, thinking that if Tom had only bloody said something she wouldn’t have cared as much about losing a man to plain old _Barbara_ of all people. Would have saved her the embarrassment and heartbreak and awkwardness of having to navigate maintaining a relationship with an ex, and her friend who was with said ex!

Barbara giggled, and Trixies hands shook. Damn this rubbish lighter!

‘What happened to the music?’ came a voice. It didn’t really sound like anyone Trixie knew. 

She peeked around the side of the shed to see the head of one of the old women poking above the fence, looking around. Barbara rose from her seat and explained that everyone was taking a break of sorts and she was passing the time by watching silly videos on her phone. 

‘This one has been around for a bit but always makes me laugh.’ 

The woman pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at the small screen. ‘What is it?’ 

‘A bat gets into an Irish family’s kitchen and all hell breaks loose.’ 

From her spot behind the shed, Trixie tisked and rolled her eyes. Barbara hid her face and tried not to cry with laughter. ‘I always lose it when the dog takes a wee on the floor,’ she eeked out. 

The woman was watching the video like she was watching a football match, her eyes narrowed in determination. ‘Yes! Catch him Derry!’ she said, swinging her fist in the air. 

Another voice came through from the neighbors house, it boomed with authority like a mother scolding a child. ‘What in the bleeding hell are you doing half way in the neighbors garden Monica Joan!’

‘I want to see the fate of this bat - ah!’ 

A pair of hands reached up and grasped at the shoulders of Monica Joan, ‘Get down this instance you daft woman!’ 

‘Unhand me, you oaf! I am not an invalid!’

‘You will be once I’m through with you!’ 

Monica Joan disappeared behind the wall accompanied by a litany of grumbled swears and threats. 

‘Erm, sorry. Didn’t mean to get you in trouble!’ Barbara feebly shouted over the wall as a door slammed and silence filled the air. 

Trixie harrumphed from her spot behind the shed as she watched Barbara look around, it dawning on the woman that she was alone out in Patsy’s garden. 

‘Wonder where everyone went…’ she said to herself before heading inside. 

‘What you doing over here all by yourself?’ 

Trixie felt all the hairs stand on the back of her neck. She whirled around and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was only Patsy's friend Vanessa. 

‘Needed one,’ she smirked awkwardly, holding up her unlit cigarette between her fingers. ‘Just can’t seem to…’ she gave her lighter another few flicks, but it was futile. 

‘Here girl, I got you.’ Vanessa produced a lighter and lit the flame, and Trixie gratefully leaned forward and sucked on her cigarette until it caught. 

‘Thanks,’ she replied, finally feeling the blessed burn as the smoke hit her throat. 

As Vanessa put the lighter back in her pocket, Trixie took the few seconds of silence between them to give her a proper once over. She was simply dressed in a black v-neck and jeans, with white trainers.The woman was thin, but looked strong, athletic. Her time in the military had no doubt toned her body, her arms in particular. She was attractive, no doubt, in Trixie’s mind, but knowing she was Army reminded her of her father. Vanessa didn’t seem at all as affected as her father did when he returned home from the Gulf. The man had left them a loving and caring father, only to return… well, different. His personality was muted. He was unwilling to talk about, much. He didn’t laugh anymore, didn’t find any joy in anything he used to, and it was too late before her mother could get him any help. One day her father was there, and then he was just… gone.

She supposed it remained to be seen how Vanessa would adjust to being back home, and wondered how she would cope. She didn’t really fancy engaging in any conversation about the woman's military career, however, so she moved onto chatting about the only other thing she knew about her. 

‘So,’ Trixie remarked, ashing her cigarette, ‘Patsy tells me you’re a real Lothario.’ 

Vanessa looked back at her with a raised eyebrow. ‘Whose that?’

Trixie smirked. ‘A slut, basically.’ 

Vanessa grinned ‘Damn, how you just gonna call me out like that? We just met!’

Trixie took another drag and smirked. ‘So it’s true then? You just go with a lot of women?’ 

‘Go? As in date? Nah, It’s like, I’ve never taken anyone out to the movies or shit like that, you know? I just kinda go with the flow. Everyones got a vice.’ Vanessa shrugged. ‘Mine’s women and tattoos.’ 

‘Mine’s… well, it _was_ alcohol,’ Trixie replied blithely. She didn’t know why she wanted to share that with a person she had just met, but she just couldn’t stop herself. ‘Stopped drinking when I realized I was doing it in the middle of the day to cope with the stress of work.’ 

‘True, girl,’ Vanessa replied as she leaned against the wall alongside Trixie. ‘I don’t drink either. Never have.’ 

Trixie raised an eyebrow. ‘Really?’ 

‘Nah. OK, I mean, like, I tried it a few times at parties and stuff but just hated the shit. Never stuck with me, you know? Never been interested in doing anything else.’ Vanessa shrugged, her hands in her pockets. ‘Just not about that life.’

Trixie took another drag of her cigarette, smiling appreciatively. ‘It’s nice to be ‘round someone else who doesn’t drink for a change.’ 

'Yeah, true, to be honest,’ Vanessa nodded, ‘Like, I really don't care if anyone drinks, but damn if the army ain't full of a bunch of frat boys comin’ up to me every Friday,’ Vanessa flexed and lowered her voice. ‘Come on man, let's get fucking wasted bro!’

Trixie brought her cigarette to her mouth, chuckling at the absurdity of it all. Seemed boys were the same no matter where they were from. 

‘Like, come on man, get the fuck outta my face with that shit,’ Vanessa went on, waving her hand dismissively, ‘Only reason I ever went to any of those parties was to keep them mother fuckers away from the girls. Someone had to stay sober to get everyone home ok.’ 

‘Keep them away from the girls?’ Trixie quirked an eyebrow, an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach as she caught on to what Vanessa was saying. ‘You mean like, because…’ 

‘Yeah. Like, I’m all for a good time and all that but bad things can happen, and I aint fucking around with that shit. Army life is hard enough as it is for women. We gotta look out for one another, you know?’

Trixie gave the woman another lingering once over as her cigarette rested between her two fingers. She was beginning to see just why Patsy had come to be such good friends with Vanessa. The woman was, if anything, genuine and unapologetically herself, along with having a deep sense of character and integrity. Trixie tried not to be too jealous of Patsy, wishing she had someone like Vanessa in her life. 

The thought brought back her feelings of resentment and ill will towards Barbara and Tom. She tried not to frown as she took another drag of her cigarette. 

There was another moment of silence as Vanessa looked over her shoulder. ‘What about that one who was sitting over there?’ she asked. ‘Beverly? She seems quiet but I bet she gets wild.’ 

‘Barbara.’ Trixie sighed, annoyed. ‘And absolutely not. She can hardly drink enough to get anywhere near wild. She’d be passed out on the settee after one vodka tonic, she's such a lightweight. And right now she’s probably in the house texting her boyfriend Tom who is _so_ boring . They have the chemistry of a dead fish but for some reason they just... _like_ one another and I just can’t, ugh. I mean, I know _why_ , but still.’ 

Trixie threw down her cigarette and stepped it out as Vanessa waited for her to continue. 

‘And the others… well… Lucille practically fell into Valerie's life, didn’t she. They’re bound to get together the moment Val gets her head out of her arse. And you just _know_ Patsy and Delia are definitely going to hook up’ 

Vanessa gave a disbelieving tisk ‘How do you know that?’ 

‘Come on,’ Trixie replied, placing a hand on her hip, ‘look at them. It’s bound to happen. I can’t quite put my finger on it but I know there's something there.’ Trixie continued, her eyes narrowing. ‘There was this sort of _connection_ between them the moment they laid eyes on one another when Patsy first arrived. It’s been a tumultuous back and forth ever since, but you’ve seen them together by now, haven’t you? You saw them earlier unabashedly flirting in front of everyone and singing together?’

‘Hmm yeah you might have a point.’

‘If they’re not shagging now then they will be, I just know it. I just …’ Trixie looked down, ‘feel like all my friends are pairing off and I’m going to be alone forever.’ She sighed, not used to saying things like that out loud but it felt good to let it out. Vanessa didn’t seem to mind. Possibly a perk of her not being English. 

Vanessa simply shrugged. ‘I don’t think so.’ 

‘No, all my relationships have ended in utter failure and I’m resolved to becoming an old spinster,’ Trixie sighed dejectedly. ‘I should just accept my fate and adopt a bunch of cats.’ 

Vanessa smirked, a little laugh escaping her lips as she turned to Trixie. ‘I got an adoptive mama who found _the_ love of her life _late_ in her life. If their relationship has taught me anything it’s that people are gonna come and go and you just have to cherish their presence while they’re there. It might happen now, it might happen 10 or 20 years from now, but if there's a chance for love, you just gotta be open to it.’ She stuck her hands back in her pockets and shrugged, ‘No matter when it happens, you just gotta be open to it,’ she repeated. 

Trixie looked at Vanessa for a good long moment, letting what she had just said sink in. After a bit, she nodded in agreement, deciding she did have a point. 

‘Besides?),’ Vanessa flashed a charming grin, ‘I’m sure even old spinsters get a good fuckin’ every once in a while.’ 

‘Oh sure. I’m sure I’ll be able to fit in a good shag or two between all the cat feedings.’ 

‘Yeah, see, there you go,’ Vanessa laughed. ‘I’d definitely wanna show a fine cat lady like you a good time.’ 

Trixie found herself grinning, and looked down shyly. Maybe she was suffering from a case of severe loneliness, but she was enjoying having someone flirt with her, someone validating her feelings and her worth. If she had ever passed Vanessa in the street she wouldn’t have given her a second glance, but here and now and after chatting with her a bit she could see why so many women might have thrown themselves at her. She didn’t mind in the slightest being counted amongst their number.

She just needed this in the moment. She needed this now. 

Trixie turned towards Vanessa, reaching out and grasping her wrist, taking her other hand and idly drawing circles in Vanessa's palm. ‘Is that an offer?’

Vanessa gave another laugh, her smile brilliant and charming. ‘I can be, if that's what you want.’ 

Trixie nodded. 

Vanessa’s grin turned to a smirk, and she hummed as if she were contemplating what she was going to do. 

Trixie’s breath caught in her throat as Vanessa stepped in front of her, moving in close. Trixie could feel the warmth of her body as her soft lips feathered along her jawline. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been touched so intimately and she had barely been touched! Trixie bit her lip, holding in a gasp as she felt tender fingertips just barely graze the soft and sensitive skin of her thigh under the fabric of her summer dress. She gulped, feeling nervous and excited but not wanting Vanessa to stop. To encourage Vanessa to keep going, she took a fistful of the material and hitched up her skirt just a little further… a little further... Trixie needed to bite her lip to prevent a gleeful shout from escaping as strong hands grasped beneath her bum and lifted her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around Vanessa's hips and was pulled down for a kiss that left her breathless. 

* * *

Delia climbed the stairs to the second floor floor of the house, barely able to hear the hushed tones of Lucille and Valerie as she left them behind by the office. She hoped they were finally talking about something that would propel them into some semblance of a romantic relationship. On the surface Delia thought Lucille was much too good for Valerie, especially after that bloody stunt this morning with the bathroom, but deep down she did want them to be together. If anything the presence of Lucille in Valerie's life might encourage Valerie to grow up. 

All thoughts concerning the two left her as curiosity took over. She had never been to the second floor of Patsy's house. Never been to the first floor, either, but she did wonder what was up here. As she stood at the top of the stairs, she saw a room to her right, dark and empty. In front of her was a simple bathroom. Also dark and empty. It looked clean enough, meticulously sterile even, when she flicked on the lights, but there was no shower curtain, no towels. Nothing to indicate anyone used this bathroom. She wondered if Patsy hadn’t meant for anyone to venture up here. A quick peek in the bathroom made Delia decide to just hold it as it looked like no one had used it in quite some time. There was a bathroom on the ground floor, right? She turned to descend the stairs once more before another room caught her eye. 

The door was adorned with wooden letters spelling out EMMA, and faded children’s drawings sketched in crayon or felt-tip pens. 

Delia’s mind suddenly raced with questions. The main one being, who was Emma? Did Patsy have a kid? Did she have a sister? She’d never mentioned an Emma before. All the evidence she had suggested Patsy was an only child, so maybe… Was Patsy actually Emma? Did she change her name at some point? Why would she do that? What was Patsy hiding?!

Delia took a deep breath realizing she was being ridiculous. Maybe this was Patsy’s old room as a kid. Maybe Emma was Patsy’s middle name? Or maybe _Patsy_ was her middle name? People interchange between their first and middle names, right? 

A creaking of floorboards below made Delia snap back to the present, and realize that she was standing somewhere she probably ought not to be. Whoever this Emma person was, if they were important, Patsy would have mentioned her, right? 

Not wanting to dawdle any longer, Delia descended the stairs, noting that the office door was shut and Lucille and Valerie were no longer in sight. She didn't want to be caught wandering about, so she continued down. 

The sound of the back door squeaking open and closed reached her ears as she stepped back onto the ground floor. The sight of Patsy walking towards her reminded Delia of something she wanted to know even more than who the mysterious Emma was. 

Delia walked towards Patsy, the redhead smiling as she similarly walked her way. 

'Oh, hey Deels. I was just wondering where you had go-'

The two met halfway down the hallway, and Delia took Patsy by surprise when she placed a firm hand on her chest and pinned her against the wall. 

Patsy let out a shaky breath, her eyes wide. 

Getting a kick out of the reaction, Delia couldn't help but slowly curl her lips into a teasing smile. ‘Party trick. Now.’ 

Patsy’s lips twitched into a smirk, and even in the dim light of the hallway Delia could see a blush feathering across Patsy’s cheeks. It made Delia rather giddy to know she could have such an effect on the woman. Delia hadn’t even thought about what she was doing, holding Patsy against the wall like this. If it had been anyone else she wouldn’t have quite literally been so pushy, or even bothered, really, but she felt a certain thrill run through her body _because_ it was Patsy. There was no going back now, she had Patsy pinned to the wall and had to follow through with whatever it was she was going to do. Delia held her eyes firm and tried to control her breathing, telling herself to play it cool until she got what she wanted. Though what that was, she wasn’t _quite_ sure. An answer to her question would be a start. 

‘I told you, I don’t have-’ 

‘Fibber,’ Delia cut her off, her voice low and soft, lest anyone overhear. Or so she told herself. ‘What is it?’ 

Patsy sighed, her eyes slowly darting from right to left as if to make sure no one else was around. 

‘Why do you want to know?’ 

‘Tell me.’

‘What if I don’t want-’ 

‘I’m the birthday girl.’

‘You’ve already played that card,’ Patsy replied smartly, looking smug as if she'd gotten one over on Delia. 

But Delia still had an ace to play. ‘Only because you didn’t want to show anyone your super secret party trick. I did you a favor back there and now I’m cashing in.’ 

Patsy huffed. Delia felt vindicated. 

‘Are you _sure_ you want to know?’ 

‘Very.’ 

‘Can I trust you with this?'

Delia clenched her teeth. _'Pats_.'

‘It’s confidential information you know, you won’t be allowed to tell the others.’ 

‘I promise.’ 

Delia could hear Patsy gulp, and watched as she licked her lips, looking like she was preparing to do something but nothing happened. 

‘Well?’

‘Here goes. You ready?’ 

_‘Pats_ y!' Delia nearly growled, her hand moving from the taller woman's chest to her hip, holding her firm against the wall. ‘You’re not going anywhere until I see this trick of yours.’ 

Patsy looked to the ceiling momentarily as she let out a breath of air, and Delia wondered if Patsy would have slipped to the floor if she hadn’t been grasping her hips. 

‘OK, OK,’ Patsy breathed, collecting herself. ‘Watch closely now.’ 

Delia looked on expectantly and gave the most innocent smile she could muster. She was dying to know what Patsy could do, if that was anything at all, but then why would Vanessa have mentioned it? It must be something really interesting and Delia was determined to get to the bottom of it. She tried not to look annoyed for having been kept waiting, but if anything Patsy was the master of suspense. 

Finally, something happened. Delia's eyes grew twice the size as she watched Patsy touch the tip of her nose with her tongue. 

‘Oh my god,’ Delia breathed, breaking out into a grin. She had never been so genuinely amused and turned on at the same time. She blamed the wine. ‘Patsy why on earth would you want to hide such a skill?’ 

Shyly, Patsy looked away, her smirk growing until it matched the grin on Delia’s face. ‘I don’t know, seems silly I suppose.’ 

‘Silly as it may be, I’m impressed.’ 

‘That so?’ 

‘I think a lot of women would appreciate a skill like that.’ 

‘Oh would they?’

‘Oh yes. Especially the ones who enjoy… um…’ Now it was Delia’s turn to feel shy. Her resolve ws cracking a little as the desire to do something more than just hold Patsy’s hips was becoming too much to handle. 

‘Yeah, I think I know what you mean,’ Patsy replied, somewhat nervously. 

The reaction Delia was getting from the redhead actually bolstered her confidence, but the thought of Patsy doing things… with her tongue… left her at quite a loss for words. 

‘Oh. Well… good,’ she managed. 

There was a brief moment where neither could really look the other in the eye, but Delia couldn’t deny there was some kind of magnetism in the air that drew her just the slightest bit closer to the taller woman. 

Patsy blithely checked her nails. ‘Don’t recall ever getting any complaints in that regard,’ she joked. 

Delia grinned, her eyes on those pouty lips. ‘Cheeky.’ 

The two shared a shy smirk, both looking at the other's mouth. Delia couldn’t quite put her finger on it, whatever it was she felt swirling around them that kept drawing her nearer and nearer to Patsy. She didn’t want to move, couldn’t move now. It was warm here and inviting and there was possibly only one thing that could possibly happen that would make this moment the best part of her day. The best birthday, even. At least a very memorable one. 

But what did Patsy think? 

To Delia’s delight, there was a sign. It was an infinitesimal move on Patsy’s part. A twitch of her lip, a small tilt of her head. It was all Delia really needed to lean forward and finally close the gap between them. 

Delia felt hands rest on her hips and draw her in, and she sighed, feeling herself melt, mold into Patsy’s figure. All the flirting, all the sweetness and joking all day felt like it naturally led up to this moment. Patsy’s lips were so soft and sweet, and she smelled so good, felt so good. Delia’s head was in the clouds, her whole body weightless. She wanted to tell gravity to get fucked so she could stay up here a while. She could feel the goosebumps rise on her skin as Patsy gently pressed her tongue against hers and pulled softly on her bottom lip. 

What a talented mouth she had. 

Delia’s heart was thumping in her chest, her pulse pounding in her ears. When was the last time she had been so attracted to someone, so turned on? When was the last time she had been properly kissed? 

The squeak of a door opening broke them apart. It was accompanied by the sound of footsteps descending the stairs. 

Patsy looked to her right and saw Barbara entering the kitchen, looking around questioningly. 

‘Hello? Where did everyone go?’ came Barbara’s voice. 

Delia similarly looked to her right and saw Valerie and Lucille step off the stairs, their hands clasped tightly together. 

Wordlessly, both women headed in opposite directions, Patsy to tend to Barbara and Delia went to give some flimsy excuse to Valerie and Lucille, ‘Oh look, a loo right here!’ as she disappeared into the powder room under the stairs. She shut the door on Valerie and Lucille's questioning looks, her hand remaining on the doorknob as she took a moment to catch her breath and calm her heartbeat. 

She turned around and faced the little mirror over the sink. Her mind and heart filled with conflicting thoughts and feelings. She looked uneasily at herself, wondering what she had just done. What had come over her? Why Patsy? Why _Patsy_ ?! She wasn’t supposed to feel this way about _Patsy!_

Delia finally sat down to actually use the loo, looked down and realized she needed a change of knickers. She leaned forward with her head in her hands, feeling utterly ashamed of herself. 


	13. You've Got Everything Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As merry as the days were long  
> I was right and you were wrong  
> Back at the old grey school  
> I would win and you would lose  
> But you've got everything now  
> You've got everything now  
> And what a terrible mess I've made of my life  
> Oh, what a mess I've made of my life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the angst.

Patsy could feel herself resurfacing from a relaxed state of sleep.  But rather than wade through the fuzz to face the new day, her brain chose to settle on more pleasant things, like the events of last night. She smiled, the scene playing over and over again  behind her eyes. Delia pushing her up against the wall and kissing her… or was she the one to kiss Delia? Well, it didn't matter, they’d kissed! My goodness, she hoped there were several more to look forward to. She couldn’t wait to wake up and call Delia and-

'What chu got that big ol' grin on your face for?' 

Patsy opened her eyes to see Vanessa sitting on the edge of her bed, partially dressed in her green uniform and lacing up her combat boots. 

Shit, she forgot Vanessa was here! 

Patsy quickly sat up in her bed, her heart sinking to her stomach as Vanessa began to button her top. 'Are you leaving already?' She  grabbed her phone from  the bedside table and brought it to her face, squinting. 'It's barely five. Do you have to go so early.' 

'Got an international flight to catch, sis. I got to get my ass back to base or they'll say I'm AWOL or some shit, and I ain't about to get arrested when I'm so close to being out.'

'Out? As in… no longer in the army? You're almost done?' 

'That’s right. My six years are up at the end of the year.'

Patsy smiled, 'Wow, that's fantastic! What are you going to do?' 

'I’ve honestly got no fucking clue, Pats. I just know I don't want to be in the army anymore.'

She sat back on the bed and scratched her head, and Patsy  watched, concerned that her friend seemed so forlorn . 

'You know,’ Vanessa sighed, ‘I've got more money sitting in the bank than I ever had in my whole life and I don't know what the fuck to do with it.' 

Patsy raised a curious eyebrow. 'Oh?’

'Yeah man. Like, the whole time I was there I was getting hazard pay, didn’t have to pay no taxes, no bills to worry about, no rent or groceries… wasn't like I could go and spend it on anything over there, but now… for the first time in my life, I got all this money and... I don't want to fuck it up and blow it on something stupid.' 

'The fact you’re even worried about it is evidence enough that you won’t do anything stupid.'

‘But… what can I even do with it?’ Vanessa looked at Patsy, concern  written plain across  her features. ‘Like, I don’t mean to put you on the spot.’ 

‘You’re not.’ 

‘You just always seemed to know a lot more about this stuff than I do. I figured you could help. Its like… remember when you were going through your breakup and needed the money to find your own place? And you were talking about stocks and stuff.'

'Yeah?' Patsy nodded. 

'Well I mean… how does that work? Is that something I should… I mean, is that risky or..?' 

'Suppose it's as risky as you want it to be,' Patsy replied. She placed a hand on Vanessa's shoulder and gave a comforting squeeze. 'Look Ness, give me a call once you settle back home and I'll give you a crash course on things like… I dunno, index funds and compound interest and all that.'

Vanessa frowned and held her head in her hands.

'Ugh, I'm already feeling out of my depth,' she groaned, and then looked over to Patsy. 'You know Mona wants to sell me her house in Hampden, right?' 

Patsy's eyes widened. 'What? She does?'

'Yeah. For a dollar.’

‘Gosh.’ 

‘She's finally retiring and moving  back to Virginia with Lina . Says she wants the house to stay in the family and wants to sell it to me.'

‘Well a lot of people would jump on a bargain like that.’ 

'Ok, I know it sounds like a good deal, but like, the roof needs like 5k in repairs and lord knows the electrical is shot.' 

Patsy chuckled, ‘Are you worried all your newfound money will be eaten up by home repairs?’

Vanessa rocked her head from shoulder to shoulder, ‘Eh, yes and no. I know I can do some of the shit myself, it just seems like a lot of work, is all....Then again I ain’t got fuck all to do once I’m out, so I may as well…’ 

'So are you going to say yes? Are you going to buy the house?’ 

'Should I? I've never owned anything before. Never thought I'd ever have my own house.' 

'Its not as daunting as it seems, but yeah you're going to have to be responsible for fixing it up.’

‘Speaking of which, you know I've been looking around here, right?' she said, twirling her finger in the air. 

'And?'

'And that tub in there is seriously gonna fall through the floor if you don't do something about it quick.'

Patsy slapped her forehead and lay back on the bed, sinking into the pillows groaning. ‘Ugh, god, this fucking house.’

'The faucet is loose. Every time you have a shower water is seeping into the walls.'

Patsy pulled a pillow over her face, 'No, I don’t want to hear it.’ 

'And I bet you've got a nasty looking water stain on the ceiling downstairs.'

‘Ness,’ Patsy playfully whined as she clutched onto Vanessa's uniform sleeve, ‘can you please just like… stay… and fix it for me?’ 

'You can't afford me.'

'Oh come on! I let you wash your socks!' 

'You can do it. Just cut out the drywall, inspect the plumbing and tighten it up, get a patch, glue, sand, paint,' she waved her hand, 'easy. You'll be done in an afternoon.' 

'Yeah I think I'm just going to stick to the age old English way of paying someone else to do that for me.'

'Lazy ass,' Vanessa joked as she hitched her duffle bag over her shoulder. 'All this shit’s on YouTube you know.' 

Patsy hastily hopped into a pair of jeans and followed Vanessa down the stairs, stopping to look where Vanessa was pointing at the ceiling in the lounge. 

'See?' 

'Fuck.'

A large brown water spot Patsy hadn’t noticed before was clear as day now, especially with the paint cracked and peeling in several directions. 

Vanessa slapped a sympathetic hand on her shoulder before turning and heading towards the front door. Patsy followed her outside. 

'You can come back here any time you know,' Patsy remarked as Vanessa threw her dufflebag in the bed of the truck. 

'I know,’ she grinned. ‘You can come visit me in the States, too.'

Patsy sighed, hesitating to reply. As much as she wanted to go back to the states, she had work to think about. Among other things. 

Vanessa tisked. 'Oh that's right, you got a girl keeping you here now, don't you.'

Patsy gasped. 'Oh my God! Ness I forgot to tell you!' 

'What?' 

'We kissed! She kissed me!' 

‘Who, Delia?’ 

‘Who else!?’ 

'No shit! Aw see donut sticks are back, baby,’ she cheered in a sing-song voice and gave Patsy a high five.

Patsy brought the collar of her shirt over her mouth to contain an excited squeal. She ran in place as she let Vanesa do the loud celebrating for her. 

‘Damn Pats, see, I knew you could get it, girl.' 

‘OK, well  _ that _ remains to be seen,’ Patsy raked her fingers through her hair, feeling full of energy, ‘but like, it happened! And you know what else?’

‘What?’

‘She pushed me up against the wall.’

‘No shit.’ 

‘And demanded to know my party trick.’ 

‘That’s some fucking  _ top _ energy, right there,’ Vanessa laughed as Patsy profusely blushed. ‘I thought she seemed feisty. She’s got a good voice you know.’

‘Right?’

Vanessa wiggled her eyebrows, ‘You could probably think of a few other ways to make her sing.’ 

‘Ness!’ Patsy playfully shoved her friend, ‘Oh god I hope the neighbours don’t hear you.’ 

‘Hey, I’m just sayin,’ she grinned,  apparently  amused at Patsy’s bashfulness. ‘Alright, I gotta get the fuck outta here. Gimme a hug.’ 

The two gave one another a smooch on the lips before enveloping themselves in a tight hug. 

‘Just let me know when you get home safe,’ Patsy said in her ear, ‘and give Mona and Lina my love.’ 

‘Will do, sis.’ 

They let go, and Vanessa turned and opened the passenger side door to the truck, and halted her motions.

'Oh, what the fuck, man? I forgot y'all gotta have the wheel,’ she grumbled incoherently as she walked around to the other side, ‘on the wrong fucking side of the damn car. Why can't y'all drive on the right hand side of the road like the rest of the goddamn world.'

Patsy threw her hands out. 'Why can't America adopt the metric system?' 

'Why can't the UK pick one? Car says kilometers but the road signs say miles? How am I supposed to know how fast to fucking go? Like make a fucking decision.' 

'I'll get right on that.'

'You better.' Vanessa shut the door and started the engine. Patsy waited as she watched Vanessa roll down the window and stick her head out. 'Hey, you know that Trixie girl from last night? The blonde?' 

Patsy raised an eyebrow and placed her hands on her hips. 'What about her?' 

'Just like… if she wants my number, can you give it to her?' 

Patsy’s eyes  widened dramatically . 'What! Ness!'

Vanessa grinned, 'What?' 

'Trixie!? Really?' 

'Yeah, she cute,' Vanessa shrugged as she shifted the truck into gear. She raised her hand and twiddled her fingers light-heartedly, 'Take care, sis.'

'Ness!' Patsy called after Vanessa as she began to drive away. 'What did you two get up to? When?? Ness!'

Vanessa simply waved to Patsy out the window and honked the horn, turning around a corner and disappearing from view. 

'Bloody hell,' Patsy sighed to herself. She had half a mind to get on the phone right now with Trixie to ask what the hell she and Vanessa had gotten up to the night before. 

When she pulled out her phone however, the thought crossed her mind to also reach out to Delia to check in on her. Not that she needed to, but she missed her, and was excited at the prospect of possibly seeing her today. It was Sunday after all. Farmer’s market day. 

Still, it was early. And she didn't want to seem too eager,  lest  she scare Delia away… 

Patsy decided she would retreat into the house and try to enjoy a relaxing morning to herself, breakfast, tea, and probably read one of the many unfinished books on her shelf. Right, she would try to have the morning to herself and let  _ Delia  _ be the one to reach out when  _ she  _ was ready. 

* * *

Delia lay in bed, staring at the ceiling with her arms and legs sprawled out, her gaze focused and unblinking as the room filled with the soft glow of the sun rising in the east. There were a myriad of thoughts, flashbacks from the night before, rapidly playing through her mind.  She’d barely slept when she got  home, and it was all because she had kissed Patsy, and the more she thought about it the more she wished she hadn't. 

She had made some excuse to leave soon after it happened, saying Patsy and Vanessa ought to have some time to themselves to catch up since Vanessa had to leave for the States in the morning. She dragged Valerie out the door with her, leaving Lucille and Barbara behind to look for Trixie as no one was sure where she had gotten to. 

She had tossed and turned most of the night finally giving up  any hope  of sleep in the wee hours of the morning and just lay there for some time,  praying to drift off  at some point. 

So far no luck. 

Delia’s whole body was riddled with  anxiety , replaying that kiss over and over again in her head. She remembered how she felt, how warm and inviting it was and how her body reacted, and she wondered if she had ever felt like that when she kissed anybody before. Ever. 

'Do I like Patsy?' she asked herself. Well, what did that matter? It's not like Patsy liked her like that. 

But what if she did? 

No, Delia shook her head, that's… she’s charming and beautiful and you're a troll, she told herself. She'll get tired of you soon. She probably doesn't even like you  _ now _ . She probably only kissed you to be nice. To keep things from getting awkward since you threw yourself at her. But who would do that? Patsy isn't the type of person to just go kissing people all willy nilly, is she? Probably not, especially after everything she’d told them about her awful ex.

Delia rolled over in bed and groaned, covering her face with her hands. 

Why did I throw myself at her then? That's probably the last thing Patsy wants, someone just kissing her without her consent! She probably thinks you're lonely and desperate now, you numpty, which isn’t entirely inaccurate, but still! You were completely inconsiderate of her feelings. There's no way… no way she would like  _ you _ . 

Why do you like her anyway, she treated you terribly! 

... but she doesn't now. She's actually quite sweet.

'Still a terrible idea, Delia!' she harshly whispered to herself. 

Even if she did like you back it wouldn't last, she told herself, you're boring and she's posh, she'd never… 

Delia sat up and swiped a firm hand in front of herself. 'Enough.'

Something about all this just didn't sit right with Delia. She liked the kiss, but she was second-guessing herself about it and… and… and not being 100% sure about something like this should be enough to call off? Make her feelings clear and nip it in the bud now. 

'Ok, Delia,' she said to herself as she picked up her phone. She rose from her bed and began to pace her room, stopping only to look at herself in the mirror. 'You're going to do the adult thing and call her right now and tell her… it was a mistake. That it shouldn't have happened and that you should stay friends…'

Delia took a deep breath and dialled Patsy’s number. She was rather surprised when Patsy didn't take long at all to pick up. In fact she sounded rather chipper. 

'Hi Deels!' 

'Hey!' Delia replied,  her voice a little too shrill . She willed herself to calm down and speak normally. 'How are you?'

'Oh, not too bad. I'm glad you called. Was just thinking about you.'

Delia gulped. 'You were?' 

'Yeah. I wanted to ask you something.'

Delia needed to hold her phone to her ear with both hands to keep it from shaking from nerves. 'W-what’s that?' she asked. 

'Well, before Vanessa left this morning she hinted that she and Trixie might have gotten up to sometime last night.'

Delia let out a breath of air, a little relieved. 'Really?'

‘Yeah. Ness wouldn't divulge me, but I was hoping Trixie  might have given you some juicy details? '

Delia laughed nervously, not sure of  Trixie’s activities  last night… or this morning really. 'Can't say that she has. She's not really one to kiss and tell anyway.'

'Oh, that's too bad. Might have to grill her at work tomorrow.' 

There was a loud clanging followed by Patsy swearing under her breath. 

Delia raised a curious eyebrow. 'What are you doing over there?' 

'Oh, I'm… quite honestly I have no idea what I’m doing, really.’ Delia could hear her sigh, ‘thought I could have a relaxing morning in, but I now find myself sitting in my bathtub trying to patch something up.  Fingers crossed I can  hold off on any disasters until I can get a proper plumber out here.' 

‘Ah,’ Delia replied, unsure how to respond, though she did find the thought of Patsy in the tub with a  spanner  rather endearing, regardless if she knew how to use one or not. 

'So…’ Patsy trailed off, sounding as if she were steadying her breathing, ‘what's up?'

'Oh, nothing much. I, um...’ Delia clenched her fist and tried to find her resolve, ‘I just wanted to call and say… um…'

'Everything alright?' 

'Yeah, just wanted to… to call and thank you for the lovely birthday party!' 

Delia cringed and slapped her forehead. 

'Oh, of course. I had a lot of fun… Is, um… that all?'

Oh… oh god. She was expecting this wasn't she? She was expecting Delia to bring up the kiss, but now she couldn’t! She needed an escape! An exit! Abort! Terminate! Run away!!! 

'Uh yup, that's all!' 

God Delia you’re terrible at this. 

'Oh? Did you want to go to the farmer’s market today or...?'

'Ah, today's not quite…’ Delia nibbled on her fingers as she tried to think of some excuse. ‘I need to catch up on some things here and it sounds like you're busy… So I think…’ 

'Oh,' Patsy said quietly. The disappointment was evident in her tone. 

'Yeah, but I'll see you tomorrow!' 

'Oh, OK-'

Delia hung up the phone and threw it somewhere as she dove into bed, throwing the covers over herself. 

Coward. 

* * *

It was Monday afternoon. 

It had been another busy and bustling day in the clinic for some, and in the nearby hospital for others. Patsy had just gotten back to her desk after a day of checking in on newborns and releasing them and their mothers back home once she determined them fit enough to do so. With the sun sinking lower and lower into the sky and nary a word from Delia, not even a text, she was growing quite worried that something was amiss. 

She was rather distracted, however, with Trixie now standing in her office and hovering over her. 

‘You ought to see the pictures of this place, Patsy,’ the blonde lamented, ‘absolutely gorgeous. Spacious even, for only a two bedroom bungalow.’ 

‘Mmhmm,’ Patsy replied, plucking her good pen out from an unused coffee mug on the desk. 

‘Phyllis owns it, so you know it’s in tip top shape,’ Trixie went on grinning, ‘Kept very clean, which  I’m sure you’ll approve of .’ 

Patsy nodded in acknowledgement as she scribbled in her  cheque book . ‘How much did she say?’ 

Trixie cleared her throat and batted her eyelashes, ‘Twelve...’ 

Patsy raised an eyebrow. ‘Twelve hundred? For four days?’ 

‘Do you want to see photos?’ Trixie insisted, whipping out her phone, ‘It’s super close to the little village and  _ right  _ on the beach. Imagine looking out on that sunset every evening.’ 

Patsy suppressed an eyeroll and scribbled the figure in her  cheque book . 

‘And it’s for the weekend right after the  kids are back in school, so it won’t be as crowded. It'll be a nice and quiet girls weekend,’ Trixie went on, ‘I assure you the others and I will contribute our share. Just none of us have the full amount up front to reserve the spot.’ 

‘Trixie, it’s OK.’ 

‘I really wanted to snag it since Phyllis mentioned the initial renter cancelled.’ 

‘Really, don’t worry about it,’ Patsy said, ripping the  cheque from the book, ‘I’ve never been to Woolacombe but I hear the beaches in Devon are beautiful. It sounds like fun.’ 

Trixie beamed, ‘Thank you, Patsy. I’m going to make sure you get the biggest room and take care of all your expenses. You won’t have to worry about getting there or dining out or anyth-’ 

Trixie reached for the  cheque , but Patsy snapped it back. 

She looked affronted by the motion. ‘Something the matter?’

Patsy quirked an eyebrow, her gaze unwavering. ‘You wouldn’t happen to know anything about a pair of knickers I found behind my shed yesterday, would you?’ 

Trixie blinked, her smile turning into a wide grin as she fluttered her eyelashes innocently, ‘I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.’ 

‘No?’ Patsy cracked a smirk, ‘It wouldn’t have anything to do with you and Vanessa disappearing for an indeterminate amount of time the other night?’

Trixie merely held her smile, shifting from one foot to the other as she placed a hand on her hip, like she was daring Patsy to say something. 

Patsy held her gaze for a moment before flicking her wrist, handing over the check between her two fingers to Trixie. The blonde snatched it from her and gave an appreciative nod. 

Trixie sighed, ‘Truly, thank you for this.’ 

‘No problem,’ Patsy replied to the woman's retreating form, placing her pen back in the cup. ‘Oh, Trixie.’ 

Trixie stopped in the door and turned. ‘Hmm?’

‘She asked me to give you her number.’

Patsy was met with a surprised look from Trixie, the woman merely looking back at her, but Patsy could clearly see the tinge of pink in her cheeks. 

Patsy rested her chin in her hand. ‘Do you want it?’ 

Trixie blinked, stalling slightly. By her reaction Patsy could tell she was mulling it over. The two women were rather surprised when Delia appeared in the doorway, and Trixie looked rather relieved for the distraction. 

‘Oh, hello Delia,’ Trixie beamed. 

‘Hey,’ Delia sighed. Patsy noted a worried look on her face and wondered what was wrong. ‘Sorry, Trixie, do you mind if I have a word with Dr. Mount?’ 

Normally being addressed by her title wouldn’t bother Patsy, but it was after hours and she thought her and Delia were beyond using formalities in front of their friends by now, regardless of them being in the clinic. Patsy sat up in her chair, sensing something was amiss. 

‘Of course.’ Trixie moved to leave, but turned to Patsy, her hand on the doorframe. ‘Patsy? You know what? Just… go ahead and send it to me.’ 

Patsy smiled and gave a nod, and Trixie shut the door behind her. 

‘What was that about?’ 

Patsy shrugged and placed her  cheque book back in her rucksack. 

‘Work stuff,’ she lied. ‘What’s up? Everything alright?’ she asked, knowing everything was not alright, but wanted to keep an air of  casualness as Delia looked anxious. 

Patsy braced herself for bad news. 

‘Ok,’ Delia sighed, looking as if she were psyching herself up to tell Patsy what she needed to say. ‘I was just… I need to talk to you about what happened… Saturday night…’ 

Patsy removed her reading glasses and sat back in her chair, waiting. 

‘I think I got a little carried away…’

Patsy willed herself to remain stone faced despite the stinging in her chest  caused by Delia’s words. She had only just started, too, Patsy thought. All the anxiety she’d felt building up over the last day and a half as a result of Delia’s silence was finally coming to a head, and she wondered to herself if she would be able to keep up the facade. 

‘And I probably did something that was out of line and… shouldn’t have.’ Delia looked down and nervously interlocked her fingers

‘Delia, it’s alright.’

‘No, Patsy, I shouldn’t have kissed you.’

Ah, there it was. Patsy clenched her jaw and tried not to break her resolve. She wondered why she was trying so hard to keep it together seeing that Delia didn’t have the nerve to even look at her. 

‘I got caught up in a moment after having a few too many glasses of wine… though that’s certainly not an excuse for my poor behaviour,’ she added quickly. 

‘Delia,’ Patsy sighed, ‘truly I’m not offended.’ 

‘I just think,’ Delia continued, Patsy’s words seeming to not register, ‘I don’t want there to be any awkwardness between us here at work.’ 

‘Right.’

‘And I want for us to remain friends,’ Delia cringed slightly, her eyes closed, ‘if that’s still possible?’

Patsy forced a nonchalant smile, wanting to try to make this conversation as painless as possible, for Delia anyway, so it could be over and done with. ‘Of course we can, Delia.'

Delia blinked her eyes open, looking back in surprise. ‘...really?’

‘Certainly.’ Patsy looked away, making a fuss to tidy some loose papers on her desk, ‘I understand people get carried away sometimes at parties. No harm done.’ 

‘Oh…’ Delia still looked uncertain as she picked at her fingers. ‘Well, so long as you’re OK?’ 

Patsy interlocked her fingers and rested her hands on her desk, her eyes meeting Delia’s. ‘I am. Are you?’ 

Still looking very unsure, Delia slowly nodded. 

‘Good,’ Patsy said resoundingly, hoping that would end the conversation. ‘Now if you don’t mind I’ve got a ton of paperwork to catch up on. Been at the hospital discharging new mothers all day and I need to  update their notes .’ 

‘Ah right,’ Delia fretted slightly before heading towards the door, ‘sorry, I’ll  let you get on .’ 

She stopped just as Patsy placed her reading glasses back on her nose, and turned. 

‘Did you ever find out about  what Trixie got up to  the other night?’ Delia asked, a curious eyebrow raised. 

Patsy smirked, smiling past her pain. ‘No luck,’ she fibbed. ‘She keeps her cards close to her chest, that one.’ 

Delia nodded. ‘Right,’ she sighed, mumbling under her breath, ‘reminds me of someone… Well then. I’ll see you tomorrow?’ 

‘Of course. Have a good night.’ 

‘Good night,’ she replied softly, and shyly ducked out of the office, closing the door behind her. 

Patsy waited a moment before grabbing a patient file from her desk and turning in her chair to face the window. 

She removed her glasses and held them limp between her two fingers, closing her eyes and taking in a long, deep breath through her nose, and blowing it out through her mouth. 

‘She said no,’ Patsy told herself, ‘she said no and it’s OK, she said no and it’s OK…’ 

She took a few more deep breaths, trying to rid her body of the pent up tension and anxiety that had built up over the past  couple of days, waiting for this moment. No amount of coaching herself could stop the  stinging  behind her eyes as tears started to  well up . She fanned herself with the folder and tried to focus on breathing, willing herself not to cry. 

She had her answer now, though, didn't she? Being rejected was never fun, but at least she knew now for certain that there was no chance with Delia.  Had there ever been ? She had hoped there would be, given how close they had become these past few weeks, and especially after that kiss… What was she supposed to think after being pushed up against the wall and kissed like that? 

Obviously a move  Delia regretted, Patsy thought bitterly. 

Patsy wanted to call Vanessa to ask her what she should do, but she could already hear the woman in her head. 

_ Hey man, just take that time to be in your feelings and move on. _

Be in her feelings, she thought spitefully. She didn’t know exactly what she was feeling but reckoned she  could seek  some answers at the bottom of a bottle of red wine. Other than that the only way Patsy knew to get over someone was to  keep her distance , which might be difficult considering she and Delia worked together, but… that didn’t mean they had to hang out as much as they had been in the past, especially alone. 

Patsy sighed, now woefully regretting lending Trixie the money for that beach weekend she couldn’t really get out of now. 

* * *

Delia sat on the tube, her body swaying with the motion of the train as she scrolled through her phone with her headphones in her ears. It was deep in the month of August and on that steamy Saturday morning Delia could feel the pearls of sweat  gathering at  her temples, and she could feel the  droplets  roll down her neck and settle on her chest. She grumbled hating the feeling of a wet bra. 

She pulled at her scrubs to fan herself, needing to do something to  combat  the heat that morning. She was even more discomforted by the fact she had been at the hospital all night delivering not one, but two sets of twins. All she wanted was a cool shower and to sleep the rest of the day. 

Not like she had anything else to do anyway, she thought almost bitterly, thinking of how she and Patsy  _ used _ to hang out on the weekends in the garden or at the farmers market. 

They hadn’t done that since  before her birthday back in July, before all this awkwardness between them. 

In the weeks that followed Delia’s suggestion that they should just stay friends , she tried to make a concerted effort to do  just that , inviting Patsy over for things like tea or to ask if she wanted to work in the garden or go shopping. Patsy seemed to always have some excuse, either working on the house or covering for Dr. Turner at the hospital when he needed some time with his kids. No use asking if she wanted to get together on the weeknights, as she was always working late, catching up on this or that, or jetting off before anyone  even noticed that she’d  left. 

Delia hated it, and felt anxious and embarrassed by her actions whenever she thought about it. She knew she fucked up and she wanted her friend back, but she didn’t really know how to go about doing that when Patsy didn't  seem interested in meeting her halfway. 

Maybe Patsy didn’t want to be friends after all. Maybe Delia should just cut her losses. 

She tried to  banish  the thoughts from her mind and focus on catching up on the news. Delia selected a podcast and closed her eyes. Leaning her head back on her seat. 

_ ‘This week we’re discussing the Para-Mount scandal,’  _ came the hosts voice, ‘ _ which has appeared in the headlines again as union leaders are demanding a class action lawsuit against the company  _ _ and demanding MPs put measures in place to prevent private enterprises doing anything like this again _ _.’ _

_ ‘To remind our listeners,’  _ came a second voice, ‘ _ a man named Charles Mount was the billionaire CEO of Para-Mount shipping and logistics.’ _

_ ‘Well he was until he filed for bankruptcy and liquidated the company and all it’s holdings.’ _

_ ‘That’s right, earlier this year the company had completely gone  _ _ amidst a deluge o _ _ f corruption and scandal brought about by Charles himself wiping out  _ _ employee _ _ pensions that these union leaders are filing the lawsuit for.’  _

‘Ugh, I don’t want to listen to anything about this twat,’ Delia mumbled to herself out loud. There was a stinging sensation in her chest as she thought of her poor father. Twenty odd years driving a lorry for that company and he had no pension to show for it because it was stolen from him by that greedy cunt. She flipped through her podcasts to see if anything else had updated she could listen to. 

_ ‘So, we’ve all seen the  _ Para-Mount _ name plastered on lorries and shipping vessels all over the UK and other parts of the world, but what do we even know about this guy? What kind of person was he?’  _ asked the host. 

_ ‘For all intents and purposes he had some pretty humble beginnings, which some would find surprising considering how ruthless he seemed to be later in life. He grew up in a middle class family here in London, MBA from Cambridge, lived as an expat with his wife and daughter in Singapore until 1996 when he moved the family back here. He seemed to be just your regular family man with a wife and children, one of whom survived _ _ him _ _ , Patience.’  _

Delia halted her scrolling and listened. 

_ ‘Right, and from what we know the two weren’t close at all, correct?’  _

_ ‘ _ _ According to reports _ _ about their relationship, it seems  _ _ they became estranged  _ _ when she left school. They  _ _ avoided contact  _ _ unless absolutely necessary, like when her mother, Charles’ wife Margaret, died in 2010. She’s lived a quiet life in relative anonymity, seemingly wanting no part of her father's business, nor anything to do with him, quite frankly.’ _

_ ‘We should note Patience Mount had refused to comment on this story when we reached out. So, what are the details of the Para-Mount scandal? How exactly-’ _

Delia zoned out, unable to hear anything more as a series of connections  clicked together  in her brain. 

Patsy was…  what was someone whose father was a billionaire business owner ? An heiress? Did she have a title? 

She shook her head. That wasn't the point! She was the  _ daughter  _ of  _ that man _ ! The man who stole  her father’s retirement  and  that of  thousands of workers like him, right from under them and left them with nothing! Did Patsy have any idea the havoc and pain her father had caused them, and thousands of families like theirs? And for what?! To die alone on one of his stupid yachts?!

An anger was rising in Delia like a slow boil as she walked from the tube station to her flat. She was hot and exhausted and hungry and just wanted to go to sleep. She tried to put what she had just heard out of her mind, but there was no ignoring the fact that Patsy…  _ Patsy…  _ was the daughter of that terrible man, that  _ thief _ . She couldn’t just push aside something like that, especially since the mere existence of Patsy and her father had caused so much strife and uncertainty and pain for her and her own family.  If the bullying she’d endured at Patsy’s hands hadn’t done enough damage, then the turmoil caused by her father was certainly the nail in the coffin.

Delia entered her flat and went straight to the fridge  to get some cold water from the jug , deciding she would focus on having that shower and try to calm down and… possibly  _ talk  _ to Patsy about it once she knew what she was even going to say. Right. Talk. 

She was too distracted to notice the extra pair of shoes sitting by the front door. 

Delia walked to her bedroom and stopped, hearing some muffled conversation from behind the door. Was someone in there? 

_ ‘This is certainly a nasty little mess you’ve  _ _ gotten yourself into _ ,’ came a voice. It sounded rather seductive. 

_ ‘ _ _ I would be most appreciative  _ _ if you released me, lieutenant _ ,’ came another. 

_ ‘Not so fast  _ _ Mr.  _ _ Spock. I need to know something first.’ _

Delia stood there her eyebrows knitted in confusion wondering what the fuck she was listening to. 

_ ‘I see the way you look at me across the bridge of the Enterprise. You can’t fool me with those sexy little bedroom eyes, Spock. I know you want to fuck me.’  _

_ ‘Why Uhura, that would be most… illogical.’  _

That’s enough. Delia swung open her bedroom door  and glowered at the scene before her. Valerie and Lucille were dressed in Val’s homemade Star Trek costumes, the Londoner’s outfit complete with pointy ears. And Valerie was tied to a kitchen chair. And Lucille was standing over her, one knee wedged between Valerie’s thighs. 

‘Oh, hiya Deels,’ Valerie said casually. ‘Would you mind shutting the door?’

Delia’s nostrils flared as she took in a deep breath. 

‘We’re kind of in the middle of something here.’ 

‘Get out of MY ROOM!’ she boomed, convinced that the walls shook.  Or maybe it was just her shaking with anger . 

‘Jeez alright,’ Valerie griped, ‘don’t get your knickers in a twist.’ 

‘OUT!’ Delia screamed like a madwoman, ‘Out out out out out!’ 

‘Ok! We’re going, we’re going!’ Valerie looked to a fiercely blushing Lucille. ‘Lou, untie me would ya?’

‘No time for that! Out now!’ Delia grabbed the back of Valerie's chair and dragged her down the hallway, shouting, ‘Don’t even know why-’ 

‘Deels,’ Valerie looked around frantically, ‘be careful don’t-’

‘-you were even in my bloody room anyway!’

‘-drop me! Ahh!’ Valerie shouted as Delia left her tied and leaning against a wall with her feet dangling before she stormed back towards her bedroom  glaring at a petrified-looking Lucille as she passed her in the doorway to the lounge.

‘I didn’t feel like cleaning mine, Deels!’ Valerie shouted a lame excuse. ‘We weren’t gonna actually have sex in there!’ 

Delia entered her room and slammed the door behind her. 

‘Aw Deels, don’t be angry!’ 

Delia opened her bedroom door, her eyes narrowing on Lucille still standing there petrified. 

‘And you!’ Delia pointed a stern finger to Lucille, who gulped. ‘I expected better... from  _ you _ .’ 

She slammed her door again and threw her rucksack to the floor. 

‘No boundaries, no bloody consideration,’ she seethed as she hastily disrobed. ‘Is it me? Is it something about me that makes shitty people think they can walk all over me?’ 

She tossed her scrubs in the bin and paced her room, still raging. The more she thought about it the angrier she became. 

‘Am I too nice? Too passive? Is this even my fault at all?’ she asked herself as she threw on a clean shirt. 

‘Fuck Valerie,’ she grumbled. ‘Fuck Lucille, fuck everybody. Especially Patsy.  _ Fuck _ Patsy. This all bloody started with her. Should have never let Julienne hire her. Should have let her leave at the beginning like she wanted. Fuck the others for making me apologize to her. She’s the one who acted bloody terrible to me for no bloody fucking reason. Why? Why did she even… why was I the one she picked on!? What the hell did I ever do to  _ her _ , that cunt.’ 

Delia stopped her pacing and bashed a closed fist into her other hand.

‘I’m going over there.’ 

She hastily opened her drawers and pulled out a clean pair of jeans. 

‘I’m bloody going over there and demanding,’ she pushed through one leg, hopping on her other foot, ‘to know why she,’ she pushed through the other leg, ‘bloody bullied  _ me _ !’ 

She buttoned her trousers,  threw on the first tshirt she could get her hands on,  and left in a hurry, ignoring Valerie and Lucille's pleading apologies as she grabbed her bike off the hooks from the ceiling. 

The cycle to Patsy's house did nothing to alleviate the  adrenaline raging through her body. No amount of deep breathing or  expension  of energy as she pedalled could calm her mind or body. She was determined to see this through and not back down. She was going to demand answers to something that had such a profound effect on her life. 

Soon, she arrived at Patsy’s gate, and threw down her bike, striding to Patsy's front door. 

Delia took a deep breath and firmly knocked. 

* * *

Patsy was nearing the brink of exhaustion. This certainly wasn’t as bad as her residency days, but at least then she was kept busy and physically moving to the point where she slept deeply whenever her shift was over, and woke  relatively  well rested and  ready  to do it all over again. She hadn’t slept well for the last several weeks though, and it was starting to get to her. She had spent much of that morning, and even now into the afternoon, doing nothing but drinking coffee and catching up on patient files and answering emails. What else was there to do, really, but work? Just like when she was in school. Who needed a social life? She certainly didn't feel like hanging out with anyone these days, anyway. 

It was quiet, that day. The only sounds were the shuffling of papers accompanied by the clacking of her keyboard, maybe a bird or two chirping outside the window. This quiet went on for what seemed like several hours as Patsy willed herself to stay awake and focus on her work. 

I'm the midst of everything, Patsy could hear a voice over the gentle tick tick sounds of her typing on her keyboard.

‘Oh, bother.’ 

Patsy stopped, and listened. 

Her eyes narrowed, looking up and around her surrounding area. She  _ knew  _ she was alone. Knew that the house was locked up and that there couldn’t possibly be anyone else in the house, let alone the room with her, except that voice she just heard certainly wasn’t hers. 

Was she hearing voices? 

‘She forgot me again, didn’t she?’ 

OK, that was clear as day, and the voice she heard was familiar, sounding like a character from her childhood. 

Her eyes shot to the  tatty  little stuffed bear that was sitting on the bookshelf across from her. 

Patsy blinked. Was this thing really talking to her? 

‘Who?’ she asked quietly. 

‘Emma,’ it said, its little paw coming up to scratch its head. ‘She said she was going away, but she forgot me.’ 

Patsy’s mind flashed to an evening in her past she would rather forget. 

‘She didn’t forget you,’ she said. ‘You were there with her when she-’ 

Patsy gasped, her eyes wide and heart pounding wildly in her chest as she shot up in her chair. Several papers slid from where she had been resting her head, and  drifted  to the floor. Her pulse drummed loudly in her ears, her chest rising and falling with deep breaths as she willed herself to calm down. 

She brought a hand to her face and realized heavy tears had fallen from her eyes and were streaming down her cheeks. She threw off her reading glasses and harshly wiped her face with the back of her hand. 

She looked at the stuffed bear for several moments, studying it. It wasn’t moving. It wasn’t talking. She just… imagined it. 

It was Saturday, right? She didn’t need to work tomorrow. She was going to stop now and try to get some rest. It would do her no good trying to continue with work while she was hallucinating  conversations with her sister’s beloved old Pooh Bear , right? It was time to stop. 

Patsy spun around in her chair to face the window looking out onto the garden. She took a few more deep breaths as she tried to let the view calm her pounding heart. She  noted  that the garden beds were becoming overgrown with weeds. Maybe she could tidy those up to tire her body and try to get some sleep. She knew she needed to trim them back but she didn’t quite have the motivation to do any of that right now, not without Delia to help her anyway. 

‘Stop,’ she told herself and turned away. The mere thought of Delia was enough to bring tears back to her eyes and she had better things to do than to mope. 

It’s not like Delia came over to help with the garden they started together anymore anyway. 

Then again, whose fault was that really? Patsy pushed her  away a fter the birthday party and kept her  at arms length  for her own good. She’d said she wanted to be friends, but Patsy couldn’t let her get close, not physically, not emotionally. It was too painful. She still  _ liked _ Delia, still fancied her, and reducing their time together to just passing salutations at the clinic just wasn’t enough space for her to get over her feelings for her. She needed more time. 

Her phone chimed in her pocket, the sensor on her doorbell indicating that someone was standing at the door. 

‘Probably just Rocky,’ Patsy grumbled as she picked up one of her patient files from the floor. 

She nearly jumped when she heard three firm knocks come from the front door. 

Someone was actually here? 

Patsy rose from her chair, giving her eyes a final wipe and tucking her hair behind her ear before descending the stairs. She swung open the door and was pleasantly surprised to see Delia standing on the other side. 

‘Delia,’ she said, feeling her lips start to twitch into a smile. She couldn’t decide if she was anxious or happy to see her. ‘I was just thinking about you,’ she said before she could stop herself. 

Delia’s expression didn’t soften. In fact, she looked rather aggrieved. 

‘What's the matter?’ Patsy asked  nervously. 

Delia was direct with her reply. ‘Why did you bully me?’ 

Patsy blinked, rather taken back by the question that came out of nowhere. ‘What?’ 

‘Why did you bully me? Back then, when we were in school?’ 

Patsy closed her eyes, her tired brain taking a moment to switch gears and focus on what Delia was really asking. She sighed. 

Great, another horrible thing from her past she needed reminding of. First her sister and now this. This day was becoming worse and worse. 

‘Delia, what… what is this about?’ she asked, trying to keep her tone level even though she had  nothing like  the emotional capacity to handle wherever this conversation was going. ‘What are you doing here?’ 

‘I  _ want  _ to know why you  _ bullied  _ me, Patsy,’ Delia said, baring her teeth. Her glare was enough to make the colour drain from Patsy's face. 

Delia took a step forward into the house and Patsy took a step back. 

‘You didn’t know me back then,’ Delia continued, her gaze unwavering. ‘Why did you pick me? What was it about  _ me _ ?’ 

‘Delia I don’t...’ 

‘Was it because I was poor?’ Delia asked, taking another step forward. ‘Is that why?’ 

‘No!’ Patsy cried, taking another step back. 

‘My family wasn’t good enough to send me to that school?’ 

‘Delia, no! Why are you-’ 

‘Did you think I was fat?’ Delia spat, her voice cracking, ‘Wasn’t pretty enough? If I recall you didn’t look so hot then yourself!’ 

‘Delia I didn’t think that!’ Patsy grew louder, frantically wanting to de-escalate this situation but she was panicking,  literally backed into a corner. ‘I never thought that, OK? I don’t know why-’

‘Did you think I was an easy target? Hmm?’ Delia gulped. ‘Rich little daddy's girl like you bored and looking for someone to pick on to pass the time?” 

Patsy let out a sigh, realizing Delia was in some kind of pain and was really reaching for something that would affect her. She needed to keep her cool and try to talk Delia down. 

‘OK, hang on-’ 

‘Yeah, I know who your father is, alright? He’s the prick who fucked over all the families who worked for his failure of a company, including mine.’ 

‘Delia listen,’ Patsy started genuinely, ‘I’m sorry that happened to your family but I had nothing to do with-’

‘I don’t care if you did or not!’ Delia cut her off, shouting. ‘My father gave twenty years of his life driving a stupid lorry for your dad and he’s got nothing to show for it! And  _ you…  _ I can’t stand kids like you, spoiled brats whose parents bail them out time and time again every time they fuck up.’ 

‘Delia,’ Patsy warned calmly, trying to focus and keep her cool. 

‘How many times did you get in trouble at that school Patsy? I would see you visiting the headmistress’s office all the time but you were never pulled out for being a complete piece of shit.’ 

‘Delia, you don’t understand.’ 

‘Probably because your father just kept giving money to the school.’ 

‘That wasn’t the case at all if you would just-’

‘Meanwhile kids like me couldn’t take any chances. I didn’t have money to fall back on. I didn’t have rich parents to bail me out.’ 

‘No one bailed me out of anything!’ 

‘Bullshit. Your whole bloody life just reeks of unwarranted privilege, Patsy. Look around you,’ Delia said, gesturing around her. ‘This house, all those Ivy League schools on your CV. You’ve probably been handed everything you ever wanted in your life without ever really working for it. Even the job you have now just fell in your lap!’ 

Patsy’s jaw clenched, her nostrils flared as she took a deep breath. The words stung deep and painful in Patsy’s heart. She knew Delia was in pain, knew she needed to vent whatever frustrations onto Patsy that she seemed to have been holding onto for quite some time. 

But this crossed a line.

Patsy knew she was sorry for the way she treated Delia back then, but no matter what Patsy did it didn’t seem like anything would be enough for Delia to forgive her. And if that were the case then she didn’t owe Delia any more explanations. She didn’t owe her any more apologies. 

Patsy knew better now than to keep people who acted like this in her life. Delia needed to go. 

‘This house,’ Patsy started slowly, her voice low, ‘the one you so rudely barged into, Delia… I’d trade this house in a heartbeat to have my mum back.’ 

Patsy watched as the expression on Delia’s face changed, softened, the colour draining from her cheeks as the gravity of what she said sank in. 

‘And those schools, those degrees on my wall up there in that office? Those are  _ mine _ . I did the work and I  _ earned  _ them, Delia. I pushed myself to do the work because it was my way of… I had to do  _ something  _ to deal with the pain of losing my mother and losing…’ 

Patsy could barely say her name. She hated herself in that moment for letting Delia see her in any kind of pain, but she couldn’t help the quiver in her lip, couldn’t help the swell of hot tears spilling out over her eyes and falling down her cheeks. 

‘Emma,’ she finished, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Patsy stepped forward and Delia stepped back. 

‘Delia you truly don’t know anything,’ she said, finding her resolve again. Her voice was low and calm to the point of being eerie. Funnily enough, the line reminded her of the fight they’d had in the girls toilet at that bloody school. 

She took another step forward and Delia, now looking very remorseful, took another step back. 

‘Do you want to know why I hated you back then, Delia?’ Patsy asked darkly as she hovered over the smaller woman. 

Patsy watched Delia gulp, petrified, unable to move or respond. 

‘It’s because  _ you  _ had everything I ever  _ fucking  _ wanted!’ 

Patsy shoved Delia so hard the woman took two steps back out the door before falling to her bum on the path. Patsy didn’t care just then, and slammed the door on her, unable to stand the sight of her any longer. 

* * *

Delia sat in Patsy's front garden on the concrete, stunned and winded . Her chest rose and fell with deep breaths as she felt the adrenaline drain from her body. She looked down at her hands slowly,  they were scraped from her collision with the path but the pain hadn’t registered yet. 

Her mind raced,  analysing  every second of the  scant few moments since she arrived here. The stillness of the moment had come abruptly, and she questioned whether the explosive fight had really happened right where that door was. 

Her chest still ached from where Patsy had pushed her. She looked down at her hands again, little droplets of blood began to form in the scrapes. A reminder that it was real. It’d really happened. 

Tears stung at her eyes, thinking of Patsy’s face, her tears, the way her voice shook and her lip quivered. Delia began to think that there was more to this, more to her just being a random target for Patsy’s  teenage spite . 

Delia tried to put the pieces together from what she knew, and she reckoned there was more to Patsy. Much, much more. Whatever pain Delia may have felt probably didn’t compare to whatever Patsy must have been through, given the anguish  she’d just seen displayed across Patsy’s face. 

She closed her eyes and let her tears fall. 

What had she done? 

She stood and slowly wiped her hands on her jeans, contemplating knocking on Patsy's door again to apologize, but what would she even say? She was speechless, and quite frankly left with more questions. 

Delia didn’t know what to do, except turn and pick up her bike. 

* * *

Later that night, Delia lay in bed, her room still and dark. She had come home to an empty flat and it remained empty for the rest of the evening, besides her. She took the time to finally have a shower and slept the afternoon away. 

It was now close to midnight and she was fully rested but wide awake, unable to do anything but just lay there and stare at the shadows on her wall. She didn’t feel tired, but didn’t want to get out of bed. She didn’t want to eat or watch television or do anything more than just lay there. 

What she felt was terrible. Like she was the worst human on the planet and she wished the ground would open and swallow her up whole. She didn’t think  she’d ever regretted anything more than accosting Patsy the way she had . In her own house, too. 

What was she thinking? She wasn’t, that was the problem. 

Why did she have to let her temper get in the way of her better judgement? Delia brought her pillow over her head and groaned, ashamed of herself. Why did she have to  berate  Patsy for the crimes her father committed? No matter how horrid of a person he might have been, Patsy wasn't  responsible  for any of it. Above all else, he was still her dad, and he was dead. Her mother, too. 

Patsy was only 33 and she didn't have her parents. 

Delia brought her hands to her face, feeling so, so terrible and ashamed of herself. Patsy's parents must have been so young. Her own parents were only in their 60's, and she couldn't imagine life without them, no matter how much they drove her crazy sometimes. She'd be gutted if anything happened to them, would be lost without their guidance, and here Patsy was with… who did she have? Anyone? 

If she could just go back in time and take it all back… 

It was of no use now. Patsy would never speak to her again and she deserved it. She deserved all the terrible things that happened to her. She would apologize and be done with it. Leave the clinic if she had to, Lord knows Patsy probably wouldn't be able to stand the sight of her now. 

Delia’s phone chimed next to her with a text, and she wondered if she should even bother reading it. 

‘Val probably ran out of funds on her oyster card again,’ she grumbled, reaching for her phone. 

She was surprised when she saw Patsy's name illuminated on her screen. 

Delia bolted upright in bed and unlocked her phone. 

_ Are you awake? _

Delia’s heart thumped in her chest, and she gulped down a lump in her throat. Should she respond? Did Patsy want to talk? Was this text even meant for  _ her _ ?? She could have meant to text someone else, for all Delia knew!

She waited when she saw three dots appear on the screen, indicating that Patsy was writing. Another text came through. 

_ I wanted to apologise for earlier. I shouldn’t have pushed you.  _

OK, unless Patsy had been pushing other people around that day, these texts were definitely meant for her. 

Delia frantically texted back. 

**Patsy you have nothing to apologise for. I’m the one who should be saying sorry. I feel absolutely horrid for how I acted today, and I understand if you never want to speak to me again.**

Delia waited anxiously as those three little dots appeared on her screen again. Patsy was replying. 

_ On the contrary, I was hoping we could talk? _

Relief washed over Delia. She definitely wanted to talk, even if it was only so she could beg for forgiveness. 

Before she could reply, her phone rang in her hands. Patsy was calling. She answered and brought it to her ear, willing herself to push away the mass of nerves growing fiercely in her chest. She clutched at her duvet and looked anxiously into the darkness of her room as she responded. 

‘Hey.’ 

‘Hi,’ Patsy breathed, ‘I’m sorry I’m reaching out so late.’ 

‘No, Patsy, not at all.’ 

‘I was wondering if… are you home?’ 

Delia blinked, finding herself nodding, but then remembering she was on the phone, ‘Y-yes, I’m here. I’m home.’ 

‘Could I… well…’

Delia sensed hesitation in her voice. She felt a little better knowing Patsy seemed just as nervous as she was. 

‘What is it?’ 

‘Well, I was… I was taking a walk,’ Patsy explained, ‘and my feet just led me here…’ 

Delia’s eyes burst open,  _ ‘Here _ ?’ 

She scrambled out of bed and went straight to her window, drawing back the curtain to see a lone figure standing near the entrance to her building. 

Delia watched as the figure looked up, and there was no mistaking that red hair and those blue eyes belonged to Patsy. She placed her hand on the cool window and waited for Patsy to find her amongst the other darkened windows, her heart thundering in her chest when Patsy’s eyes met hers. 

‘Hi,’ Patsy said, her voice clear enough to have Delia think she was standing right there next to her, instead of several stories below. 

‘Hi,’ Delia replied softly. ‘Come up. I’ll buzz you in.’ 

Patsy nodded and hung up the phone. 

Delia left the window, scrambling to throw on some jeans and a clean shirt, running her fingers through her hair as she raced to the front door to buzz Patsy into the building. When she heard the click, she raced to tidy the place up as best she could, hurriedly collecting clothing and rubbish and the like and putting them in their allotted bins. 

She stopped and held her breath when she heard a soft knock at the door. She didn’t feel like she was ready for Patsy to see her or her flat in such a state, but as she was coming here so unexpectedly, this was the best she could do. 

Slowly, Delia opened the door. She was relieved to see Patsy looking like herself in a simple jumper with jeans and trainers, but her heart twinged with pain seeing the woman looking as tired and disheveled as she felt. Patsy looked like she had been crying and Delia hated herself for being the cause of it. 

‘I’m sorry it’s so late,’ Patsy started, looking down and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. 

‘It’s alright, Patsy,' Delia replied and opened the door wider. 'Come in, please.'

Patsy nodded and entered, Delia shutting the door behind her. She tried not to think about the fact that this was as physically close as she had been to Patsy since their kiss. She didn't count the shove earlier. 

'I couldn’t sleep anyway,’ Delia added with a forced chuckle, waving her hand dismissively. 

Patsy gently grasped onto Delia’s wrist, the contact silencing the smaller woman. Patsy sighed as she inspected the scrapes on Delia’s hands. 

‘Oh, Delia,’ she said regretfully, ‘did this happen when I…’ she closed her eyes and grimaced, clearly ashamed. ‘God, I’m so sorry I pushed you.’ 

‘Patsy,’ Delia replied, placing a hand on Patsy’s arm. ‘It’s alright.’ 

‘No it’s not. I shouldn’t have-’ 

‘No, it was me that-’ 

Delia’s voice caught in her throat as she thought of her deplorable actions earlier that afternoon. The way she barged into Patsy's house and drove the woman to tears made Delia's whole body thrum painfully with regret. She grasped onto Patsy, grasping fistfuls of her shirt, feeling like Patsy would disappear if she let go. 

‘Patsy, I owe you a huge apology,’ she forced out, her voice shaking. 

‘As do I.’ 

‘No, Patsy,’ Delia insisted, taking a deep breath and feeling tears threaten to fall from her eyes again. ‘What I did today was… unforgivable.'

Delia let go of Patsy, only to hide her face in her hands as her face contorted into something she did not want Patsy to see. She clenched her jaw, choking back a sob as hot tears sprang forward and threatened to seep through her fingers. 

She was surprised to feel a pair of arms wrap around her shoulders and hold her tight. She didn’t have the resolve just yet to pull away. She buried her face in Patsy's chest and sniffled, trying her best to find her voice again, but her throat burned when she tried to speak. Unable to control herself, her body rocked with a sob she could no longer hold back, and she felt Patsy hold onto her tighter. 

‘It’s alright,’ Patsy said soothingly, and for several moments just let Delia cry into her chest. 

Delia was reduced to a wet blubbery catastrophe, making a mess of Patsy's jumper. When she  eventually managed to compose herself , she sniffed and pulled away, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. 

‘It’s not,’ she said, ‘it’s not alright, Patsy. I’m...  _ so _ ashamed of how I acted, Pats, and I had no right to barge into your house and demand anything. I’m a bloody idiot who just needs to get over the past…’ 

Patsy placed gentle hands onto the backs of Delia's arms, holding her steady as Delia turned her head to wipe her tears on the sleeve of her t-shirt. 

‘Delia, I feel like… you have a lot of unresolved pain, over the way I treated you back then, and… for what it’s worth, I can at the very least explain what was going on in my life that made me… well…’ 

Delia shook her head, ‘No, Patsy, truly, you don't owe me anything.’ 

‘I want to,’ Patsy said, wiping a tear away from Delia’s cheek with her thumb, ‘if you’ll let me.’ 

Delia took a few deep breaths before nodding, ' All right, if that's what you want.' 

Patsy gazed down at her with sorrow in her eyes, and nodded. 

'I'll… put the kettle on,' Delia said softly. 

Delia motioned for Patsy to sit in the lounge while she ducked into the kitchen. Soon, she met Patsy with two steaming cups of tea and sat with her on the settee, waiting patiently for Patsy to speak. 

'So,' Patsy started. 

'So…' Delia replied, placing their tea on the little coffee table. She nervously picked at a loose thread on her jeans as Patsy drew her fingers through her red hair beside her, apparently just as anxious and nervous as Delia felt. 

‘This is one of those conversations I imagined having several times,’ Patsy remarked with a pitiful smirk, ‘but now that I’m having it, I don't know how to start.’ 

Delia nodded, and tentatively reached out and took Patsy's hand in hers, giving a squeeze. 'Take your time, cariad.' she said softly. 

Patsy nodded and squeezed back. 

‘I suppose I should explain…my sister, Emma.' she started slowly, taking in a shaky breath. 'I was ten when she was born and…well, she just became my world. I was there when she was born, and...helped my mum take care of her. I watched her grow and I loved her so much. She always felt like  _ more _ than a sister to me. She felt like… _ my _ baby…and then…she got sick,' Patsy paused to take a breath, and when she continued, her voice quivered, 'and when she died I felt like…I felt like I had lost a child…I had lost  _ my _ baby.’ 

Patsy dropped her head, and Delia watched as tears fell from her eyes, creating dark stains on the fabric of her jeans. 

‘Sorry,’ she sniffed, bringing a hand to her face, ‘I’m sorry.’ 

Instinctually, Delia reached out and brought Patsy’s head to her shoulder, wrapping her arms around the taller woman and holding her tight. 

‘Don’t apologize sweetheart, it’s alright,’ she said soothingly in her ear. ‘It’s alright.’ 

Delia gulped back her own tears again, realizing now that she was holding a woman who had lost her entire family. Delia couldn't begin to comprehend that kind of loss. She didn’t feel worthy of comforting her in the moment, of holding her and telling her everything was alright, because it wasn’t. She didn’t feel like she deserved Patsy’s friendship, but in this moment, if Patsy needed her, she was willing to do anything for her, to make up for any pain she may have caused her. 

So Delia held her, rocked her, stroked her hair, and let her cry. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're not too dizzy from that emotional roller coaster. Next chapter is going to be heavy, so, brace yourself.


	14. Reel Around The Fountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time the tale were told  
> Of how you took a child  
> And you made him old  
> It's time the tale were told  
> Of how you took a child  
> And you made him old  
> You made him old

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well folks I know everyone is having a time of it. If you came to this chapter thinking this would be a lighthearted romantic bit then you should probably sit this one out and wait until the next chapter. 
> 
> **CONTENT WARNING** : Child Death. 
> 
> There will be a synopsis in the end notes of this chapter for anyone who wants to know what happens but doesn't want to read the details.

**_Christmas Day. 1996._ **

Nine year old Patsy was crying. 

Her little blue paper crown sat crooked on her head as the Queen’s speech played quietly on the television in the background. She was currently surrounded by boxes, none of which were actual presents. They were all moving boxes, most open and half unpacked already, but there were still plenty to sift through and her mother, Margaret, had yet to get to it all. 

Patsy, of course, had everything she owned already in her bedroom, all the way up on the second floor of their new house. Well, new-ish, as this house had belonged to her grandmother before she passed away, and her great-grandmother before her. She had never grown close to the woman as Patsy and her mum and dad had lived in Singapore until now, and her gran lived here in London. When she died, her mother was given the house, and her parents thought now would be a good time to move back to their native England. Patsy had been wary of the move as Singapore was the only home she had known, but when they arrived and she climbed all those stairs to her new bedroom, she felt like a princess at the top of a castle. Her priorities from then on were to make friends at her new school and see how many cartwheels it took to get from the house to the gate in the back garden. She soon found the answer was eight, and made her father stop whatever he was doing and count whenever he was around. 

Her mother had fretted over the Christmas holiday, with it being a big change for Patsy and their family, and fussing that it wasn’t going to be quite what they were used to. Margaret did attempt to make it as traditional as she possibly could. She and Patsy had spent the night before cutting snowflakes out of white paper and decorating the windows, making streamers to hang from the ceiling, and cutting a little tree out of cardboard and sticking it to the wall, drawing in little decorations and stars.

Patsy did feel a little sad that this wasn’t the type of Christmas day she usually had back in Singapore, but that wasn’t why she was currently crying. Her mother did try to make it just like she had always experienced, especially by filling Patsy's stocking with her favorite  sweets and chocolates and making cinnamon rolls in the oven that filled the whole house with a sweet scent. Right now though, Patsy didn’t care about all that, and she sniffed and wiped a fat tear off her face with the sleeve of her flannel pyjamas. 

‘Patsy, darling…?’ Margaret looked on from her spot on the settee, unsure how to react as she clutched at her dressing gown. ‘Everything alright?’ 

Patsy hiccuped and nodded, sobbing. She wasn’t quite yet capable of words. 

Her father, Charles, sat in his own blue dressing gown with brown slippers next to Margaret on the settee, looked up from the days paper and raised an eyebrow at his daughter. 

‘That’s enough, Patience,’ he said firmly. 

Margaret looked sternly at him. He responded by noisily rustling the newspaper in his hands, turning his attention back to whatever article he was reading. 

‘I’m sorry,’ Patsy sniffed, ‘I just... ‘ 

She trailed off, clutching her new guitar in her arms. 

‘I just love it so much!’ she cried. 

Margaret smiled warmly at her daughter as her father huffed beside her. 

‘Still don’t think little girls should be playing the guitar,’ he mumbled. 

‘Charles,’ Margaret said warningly. 

‘She ought to be playing piano or something.’

‘She ought to be playing an instrument she’s actually interested in,’ Margaret whispered harshly, ‘She was miserable with those lessons. You know what, no,’ Margaret waved her hands in front of herself, ‘We’ve discussed this. She wants the guitar, she can play the guitar.’ 

‘I promise, Daddy,’ Patsy pleaded, clutching her new most treasured possession in her arms, ‘I’ll take care of it and practice every single day and-’ 

‘Patsy, darling, it’s alright,’ her mother soothed, ‘we know you will and we’re going to  get you lessons in the new year , alright?’ 

Patsy smiled and wiped the last of her tears away with the back of her sleeve. 

‘Speaking of, have we signed her up for dance lessons yet?’ Charles asked. 

‘Dance? I want to do karate!’ 

‘No, dance,’ Charles said firmly, ‘you’ve got your guitar and now you’ll be taking dance lessons. It’s called compromise, Patsy.’ 

‘Mum!’ 

Margaret brought her hand to her head as if she were warding off an oncoming headache, ‘Patsy, please.’ 

‘You’ve got the thing you wanted and now you have to do something we want, that’s how that works,’ Charles continued, ‘if you’re not going to play an instrument like a lady you can learn to dance like one. Sign her up for elocution lessons as well,’ he went on, leaning back in his seat and bringing the paper back up over his face. ‘I’m afraid all that time in that international school has left her sounding more American than not.’ 

‘Alright, Charles. We’ve practically just stepped off the plane ,’ Margaret gestured around her to the stacks of unopened boxes filled with their things. 

Patsy sighed, not looking forward to any of it one bit. She looked down and clutched the guitar in her hands, thinking putting up with all that would be worth it if she got to keep her guitar and learn how to play it. 

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that Patsy hardly noticed when her mother crouched down on the lounge floor in front of her. 

‘Now, Patsy, darling, I know Santa didn’t bring as many presents as he usually does-’ 

‘Maggie, she’s too old for that nonsense.’ 

‘Shh!’ Margaret shushed her husband. 

‘It’s OK Mummy,’ Patsy sniffed as she dried her tears, and hugged her guitar once more, ‘this was all I’ve ever wanted. I don’t want anything else. I love it!’ 

‘I’m so happy to hear that, darling,’ Margaret tucked a lock of her long blonde hair behind her ear and went on, almost sounding nervous, ‘but… well, your father and I have something to tell you.’ 

Patsy furrowed her brows, her heart sinking in her chest as she braced herself for some bad news. ‘Oh… oh, no. Did someone else die?’

Charles guffawed from his spot on the settee, and Margaret ignored him. 

‘No, sweetheart,’ Margaret said, giving another stern look to her husband before turning back to Patsy. ‘It’s actually some very happy news,’ she paused and took a breath before continuing, ‘Your father and I are… expecting.’ 

Patsy blinked. ‘Expecting what? More presents from Santa?’ 

Margaret chuckled. ‘Something like that. It’s a phrase mummies and daddies use when they’re expecting... a new baby.’ 

‘A new baby,’ Patsy said flatly. It took a moment for her young brain to register just what her mother was saying, but when she did, she could hardly believe it. She nearly leapt to her feet when she asked, ‘You… you’re having a baby?!’ 

Margaret’s smile widened at her daughter's reaction, and she nodded. ‘That’s right, Patsy. I’ve… we’ve found out we’re expecting a new baby. A little brother or sister for you.’

Patsy clutched her precious guitar in her arms again as her lip wobbled. 

‘I… I’m going to be a big sister?’ 

Margaret nodded, smiling brilliantly, ‘Yes, sweetheart you are.’

She leaned back and elbowed Charles in the leg, who grunted. The woman made an exaggerated gesture with her head and with a sigh, Charles put down his newspaper and picked up a little black camera from the side table. 

‘This is the best Christmas ever!’ Patsy cried, fresh tears streaming down her face. 

Margaret clasped her hands proudly in front of her as Charles begrudgingly took a photo of his sobbing daughter.

* * *

Later that evening, with her belly full of yorkshire pudding and  trifle , Patsy was tucked snuggly in bed. She had stayed awake as long as her parents would let her, plucking along on her brand new guitar and trying to sound out songs she knew, and make up new ones. Her father had to plead with her to stop and go to sleep already, and she finally relented when he promised to take her  to the record store down the road first thing in the morning himself  and sign her up for lessons. 

She was just drifting off to sleep when muffled talking could be heard from below, a feature of her bedroom her parents were not yet aware of. 

_ ‘I don’t see why you had to tell her. _ ’ Patsy could hear her father chide. 

Her mother made a noise implying his statement was absurd.  _ ‘She was going to find out soon enough, wasn’t she?’ _

Floors creaked and sheets rustled.  _ ‘Do we even want a second child?’ _

A long pause. 

_ ‘What do you mean by that?’ _

Patsy could just imagine how her father looked right now, his arms probably crossed over his chest as the thick mustache above his lip bristled. 

_ ‘Nothing… I just… I just thought we were done having children.’  _

_ ‘Well sorry if it's an inconvenience to you, but we’re obviously not done.’  _

Another long pause

_ ‘I don’t know what you’re implying, Charles, but I’m having this child.’  _

A frustrated sigh, a calmer voice.  _ ‘I didn’t mean… I just… Do you really want to be chasing around a toddler at your age?’  _

_ ‘What’s that supposed to mean? I’m only 36! Plenty of women are still having children at my age!’  _

Another sigh. A pause. 

_ ‘This is about that bloody business, isn’t it.’ _ Margaret said. 

_ ‘Margaret, you know how hard I’ve been working to get this company off the ground,’ _ Charles replied, terse, _ ‘I have to practically start over anew with this move and and I just won’t have the time-’  _

_ ‘Well, Charles, none of that matters, does it? Whether you like it or not, I’m pregnant, and I wish you would see this as the happy occasion that it is.’  _

_ ‘Well I don’t feel happy about it at all.’  _

Patsy covered her head with her pillow, not at all fancying falling asleep to the sound of her mother crying. 

* * *

**_September 1st, 1997_ **

‘Unbelievable,’ Margaret sighed, sniffling as she brought a tissue to her eye. 

Patsy sat in a chair beside her mother in her little hospital room. She tore her attention from the cot in front of her and followed her mother's gaze to the television in the corner and saw only what the news had been broadcasting on every channel for the last day, flashing lights and wrecked cars in some tunnel, and an endless barrage of photographs of Princess Diana. 

‘Just unbelievable,’ Margaret sighed, looking as if she were using all her might to keep herself collected, ‘I just can’t believe she’s gone.’ 

The devastating news on the television couldn’t hold the ten-year-old’s attention for long as she looked back down at her brand new baby sister. 

Patsy felt her heart melt a little watching the infant blink open her dark eyes and look around, her little fingers grasping onto Patsy’s pinky.

In the time between when her mother had told her she was expecting and now, Patsy had read the books about pregnancy that her mother had kept on her bedside table, learning all about how her baby sister was growing week by week inside her mother, fascinated by the things she was reading. She learned that, even in the complete darkness of her mother's belly, her sister could see light. She could hiccup. She could hear voices, too, and Patsy made it a point to sing to her whenever she could, or play her a new song she learned on her guitar. Patsy remembered some evenings when her mother would suddenly call her over and have her place her hand on her belly. She could feel her sister punch and kick as  she grew acclimated  to using her new limbs. 

‘The bigger she gets the less space there is for her to move around in there,’ Margaret had said, ‘but some nights she wants to tapdance, especially after I’ve eaten something cold like an ice lolly.’ 

Patsy had marveled at the creation of new life inside her mother, fascinated with the process of pregnancy, how the human body could just…  _ do  _ that! Now, it was hard to believe that this tiny person had just been inside her mother's belly and was now out in the world, ready to be her own person. 

It hadn’t been at all like Patsy had seen in movies. When her mother said she thought she was in labour, Patsy expected complete chaos, and a mad dash to hospital where her mother would have the baby. Instead, she sat for a bit with her mother while she breathed through contractions, watched her pace the lounge while she listened to records or did puzzles to help pass the time, waiting for her contractions to be within two minutes. When her father finally returned from work, they had a suitcase packed and dropped Patsy off at the neighbors, where she lay awake all night wondering what was going on with her mother and the new baby, wishing she could be there. She barely slept, and when the phone finally rang the next day to tell her her baby sister had arrived, she was over the moon with happiness and excitement. Her father couldn’t come fast enough to pick her up and take her to her mother, and to meet Emma. 

There was a knock on the door and a nurse announced herself before walking into the room. 

‘How’s everything in here?’ the middle aged woman asked. She was a friendly sort who wore short hair and glasses down the tip of her nose with crisp blue  tunic.

‘Oh, we’re fine,’ Margaret sniffed again, gesturing to the television on the wall, ‘I just can’t believe…’ 

‘Oh, yes, the other nurses in the ward can barely look away either. Absolutely dreadful.’ 

Patsy watched attentively as the woman placed her hands on her sister's cot and rolled her under the light. 

‘Just going to borrow your sister for a moment. Won’t be a tic.’ She looked to Margaret and began to unwrap the newborn from her blanket. ‘How she eating? Are you using formula or nursing?’ 

‘Nursing,’ Margaret replied, finally looking away from the television. 

‘Are you getting along with that alright? I can set up a meeting with the lactation consultant if you need.’ 

‘Oh I’m… getting along. I nursed this one here, so it’s just a matter of reacclimating myself. Patsy here is basically an adult and I’ve quite forgotten how helpless infants can be. How much work it is…’ 

Patsy looked at her mother as she seemed to force a halfhearted chuckle. Even though she was smiling, there was little life behind her eyes. Patsy never recalled ever seeing her mother look so exhausted. 

‘Emma Ruth,’ the nurse said, smiling as she read the infant's nametag on the cot, ‘what a lovely name. Quite nice to see something different, really. Many of the new mums have been naming their daughters after Diana. Not that that's a bad thing…’ 

‘Oh, I’m sure little Emma will grow up with plenty of classmates named after Diana. Probably for the best I stick to the plan of naming her after her grandmother.’

Patsy’s attention  returned to Emma as she began to fuss, and watched as the nurse stuck her pinky in her mouth to quiet her. 

‘What are you doing?’ Patsy asked, her eyes wide and curious. 

‘Patsy, hush,’ her mother chided, ‘she’s doing her job, that’s what.’ 

‘I’m just trying to keep your baby sister calm while I check her heartbeat,’ the nurse kindly smiled. There was a moment of silence, and Patsy watched inquisitively as the woman held the stethoscope to Emma’s chest and counted the seconds on her watch. After a moment, she smiled and looked to Patsy. ‘Do you want to have a listen?’ 

Patsy jumped to her feet and walked over, the woman placing the stethoscope to Patsy's ears while she held the end of it to Emma’s chest. Patsy’s eyes widened at the quick rhythm. 

‘It’s fast!’

‘That’s right. And perfectly normal, too. Just about 100 beats per minute. You can also listen to how she sounds when she breaths. It’s important to check the lungs too,’ she added, moving the end of the stethoscope to Emmas ribcage. 

Emma's tiny breaths were amplified in Patsy's ears, but soon the nurse pulled the stethoscope away, and Patsy looked up at her. 

‘How did that sound?’

‘Windy.’ 

The nurse smiled, ‘Good. We want it to sound windy. No obstructions, no fluids, just a good, clean breath of air.’ 

Patsy watched as the nurse wrote down some things on a clipboard ‘Is this what you do all the time?’ she asked. 

‘Yup,’ the nurse smiled, ‘my job is to visit every new mum and baby and make sure everyone is healthy and happy.’ 

‘You get to see all the new babies everyday?’ 

‘That’s right.’ 

‘And hold them too?’ 

The nurse laughed, and nodded. ‘Speaking of which, do you want to help me get your sister ready for her first bath?’ 

Patsy smiled, and decided right then and there that she knew what she wanted to be when she grew up. 

* * *

Patsy was sitting at the kitchen table a week after her parents had brought Emma home. School had begun for the term and she was dressed in uniform, eating a bowl of sugary cereal that counted as healthy because her mum had tossed a banana in. She was humming along to herself and kicking her feet happily under her chair as she  tried to figure out the crossword puzzle on the back of the cereal box, paying no mind to her parents sitting with her at the table. Her father sat reading the paper, drinking his tea, while her mother just looked tired. Margaret wore her hair loosely pinned up that morning, her dressing gown haphazardly thrown on. The woman looked exhausted, practically sleeping with her eyes open as she rested her chin in her hand. 

Patsy was too lost in her own little world to notice the silence between her parents, the strain in their posture, even their distance. 

She placed her spoon in her bowl, and only tore her eyes away from the puzzle when the sound of her sister crying cut through. Patsy’s eyes looked from her father to her mother, waiting expectantly for one of them to get up and tend to Emma, or at least acknowledge that she was crying. Her father merely sighed, while her mother remained still, her gaze unfocused and miles away. 

‘Well?,’ Charles said as the crying continued to permeate through the house, ‘Are you going to get it?’ 

Her father's words did not shock her as much as her mother's strong reaction, the woman suddenly bursting into tears and sobbing in her hands. Patsy was stunned, unable to move as she had never seen an adult behave like this, let alone her own mother. 

Charles gave an aggravated sigh as Margaret continued to cry, noisily turning the page of his paper. Patsy looked helplessly from her father to her mother, the woman seemingly crumbling into a sobbing mess on the table right before her. 

‘I’ll… I’ll get her, Mummy,’ Patsy stuttered out, not knowing what else to do or say, only knowing that Emma needed to be taken care of, and she didn’t want to do anything to make her mum and dad any more upset than they were. 

She raced upstairs and found Emma in a cot in her parent’s room by her mother's side of the bed. She took a deep breath before whispering to herself softly how she learned to pick her up. 

‘Hand under the head… one under the bum…’ 

Patsy brought her sister to her parent’s bed, laying her down and taking out a clean nappy from the bedside table, where she knew her mother kept them as she had seen her change Emma’s nappy dozens of times by now in the week she had been home. When she undid her nappy, Patsy was surprised to see her sister's belly button swollen and red, the  stump  having fallen off. What was left behind was a bit of blood that was in the process of scabbing over. 

‘Oh no,’ Patsy fretted, not knowing quite what to do. 

She wanted to calm Emma any way she could, so she used the trick she learned from the kind nurse in the hospital, and stuck the tip of her pinky in her sister's mouth. Emma gummed it before suckling, and it seemed to calm her for a moment before Margaret walked into the bedroom. 

Patsy looked anxiously at her mother. 

‘Patsy, it’s alright,’ Margaret said, wiping a stray tear from her face, ‘you don’t need to do that, I’ll change her nappy.’ 

‘Mummy, it fell off,’ Patsy said frantically, not wanting to make her mother cry any more, ‘it just fell off in her nappy and her belly button is bleeding a little and-’ 

‘Patsy, it’s alright darling,’ Margaret repeated, reaching for Emma and holding her. 

Patsy still wasn’t convinced she wouldn't get into trouble given the state of Emma's belly button, ‘I just… it was like that when I came up to change her nappy, I didn’t-’ 

‘I know, sweetie, I know. It happens sometimes with new babies, and it’s alright. We’ll give her a little plaster and she’ll be all better by the time you come home from school.’ 

Patsy looked down at her sister, watching her little mouth open and close. 

‘I think she’s hungry…’ 

‘Thank you, darling. I’m going to feed her right now.’ she said, placing a hand to rest on Patsy's arm. ‘You’re a wonderful big sister, you know that? Such a great help to me.’ 

Patsy smiled shyly and played with the hem of her shirt. She watched as her mother moved to sit in the rocking chair in the corner of the room and begin to unbutton her pyjama top. 

‘Off to school with you now, Patsy,’ she said reassuringly. ‘The only thing you should be worrying about is getting good marks and making friends, alright? You leave the dirty nappies to Mummy, hmm?’

Later that evening, Patsy finished her homework and came down to see if her mother wanted any help with Emma's bathtime. She didn’t find them in their room, but could hear some noise coming from the lounge. Patsy sat on the stairs and looked from between the bars of the bannister as her parents sat side by side with the tv on, the volume down low. Her father looked  like he’d just returned from work, as he hadn’t even removed his blazer or shoes. He sat holding Emma in his arms, his posture stiff and uncomfortable as one did when they weren’t used to holding a baby. He was looking fondly at Emma as he fed her a little bottle of breastmilk. Patsy’s mum was smiling proudly at the two of them, curled up on the sofa with her arm around Charles, instructing when she needed to.

* * *

As Emma grew, Patsy only became more fascinated with her. She would rush home from school and happily hold her on the settee while her mother prepared dinner or took those few precious moments of free time to tidy something. When the sun was out, Patsy would sit on the  grass  outside with Emma resting on her knees and make silly faces, hoping to get a smile or giggle out of the baby. It was a momentous day for Patsy when, at nearly three months, Emma finally cracked a smile and giggled at Patsy’s silly antics. Patsy was the regular comedian from then on, helping fill the house with baby giggles and laughter as Emma just couldn’t get enough of her and her silly faces and noises. 

Patsy continued to be captivated by her sister, marveling at her growth as she began to reach out and grab things, roll over, and sit up on her own. She enjoyed seeing her sister explore the world for the first time and become fascinated by things that Patsy and her parents took for granted. The sound of crinkling paper, the smell of rain, the feeling of grass beneath her feet, or the sensation of splashing water. 

Emma kept growing, and it seemed to fly by for Patsy. By the following spring, Emma was crawling along almost faster than anyone could catch her, and both Patsy and her mum raced to close baby gates and shut doors and move things out of reach before Emma could grasp onto them. 

‘A whole room full of toys and she only wants what she can’t have,’ Patsy observed one day as she took an extension cord away from her curious, babbling sister. Her mother came over and replaced it with a wet flannel they kept in the freezer, and the teething baby happily gnawed on it. 

One afternoon when Emma was about nine months old, Patsy sat with her on the floor of their lounge trying to teach Emma to say her name. 

Emma looked at Patsy and pointed, shouting clear as day, ‘Papa!’ 

‘What? No, I’m not Papa! Patsy!’ she pointed to herself. ‘My name is Patsy!’ 

‘Papa,’ Emma said again, confidently. 

‘Patsy!’ 

‘Papa.’ 

‘Mummy!’ Patsy crossed her arms and frowned. ‘She thinks I’m her father!’ 

‘She doesn’t Patsy.’ Margaret chided. ‘She’s still figuring it out. She’ll be able to say your whole name eventually.’ 

Patsy picked up her sister and looked her in the eye, undeterred. 

‘Patsy,’ she said firmly, ‘say Patsy. Say Pammph-’

Patsy was cut off when Emma stealthily jammed her whole fist in Patsy’s mouth. 

‘Papa,’ the baby whispered, and Patsy narrowed her eyes. She conceded to being Papa. For now. 

* * *

**_April, 2002_ **

Fifteen year old Patsy sat hunched over her desk in her bedroom. The dim lighting of her desk lamp was the only thing illuminating the white pages of her textbooks as she finalized her history essay due the next day. The tedious work was made bearable with the music blasting from her headphones. She was able to block out the outside world, only looking up from her desk when she noticed her bedroom door opening and letting in the light from the hall. 

Patsy turned and saw her sister standing there in her footie pyjamas and holding her Pooh bear, looking worried. She took off her headphones and checked the clock on the bedside table. 

‘What are you doing out of bed? It’s nearly ten-’

Patsy stopped as she could hear her parents raised voices arguing over something in the room below. She couldn't quite make out the words, only able to hear her father's characteristic aggravated sigh as her mother drunkenly slurred something or other at him. 

‘I don’t like it when they yell,’ the four year old whispered as she rubbed her eye. 

Patsy sighed. She walked over and closed the door behind Emma, and walked her to her bed, tucking her in. 

Emma blinked her big blue eyes up at Patsy as the teenager fluffed her pillows. 

‘Are they fighting about me?’ 

‘No,’ Patsy said immediately, though Patsy knew that Emma knew better. 

Patsy didn’t know how much her sister knew, but Patsy  had sensed tension between her parents the last few days, and it was probably about Emma and the possibility of her being  _ sick,  _ whatever that meant. 

For some time now Patsy had known something wasn’t right with her sister. She would fall asleep in the middle of the day and she was past the age for naps. She would bruise easily, there was weight loss, and frequent headaches. Patsy had tried to tell her mother that something was the matter, and she only took notice when Emma's nose began to bleed and wouldn’t stop. The  blood tests the girl had had today would hopefully answer some questions, but Patsy hated to think how their lives would change if the tests came back confirming their worst fears. 

She sighed, and tucked her sister in snuggly. ‘They’re just a grumpy old married couple, is all,’ Patsy said softly, smiling. ‘Dad’s probably fallen asleep with his cold feet on Mum’s side of the bed again.’

Patsy rolled her eyes to the ceiling as another bout of yelling could be heard through the floor. 

‘Do you want to listen to some music?’ Patsy asked, reaching for her headphones, ‘that might help you sleep.’ 

‘I want you to play a song for me.’ 

‘No, no,’ Patsy tisked, ‘It’s too late for that.’

‘Papa, please!’

Patsy placed a finger over her lips and looked sternly at her younger sister, who immediately went back to whispering. 

‘Just one song,’ the little girl pleaded quietly. ‘It’ll help me sleep, please…’ 

Thinking about the long day her sister had just been through, Patsy gave a defeated sigh and reached for her electric guitar. She plugged her headphones into her amp and placed them over the ears of a smiling Emma before she strummed, the strings only emanating a quiet twanging sound that she knew would be quiet enough to keep her parents from knowing she was playing this late. 

Patsy pointed to her sister and then pointed to herself, closing her eyes. When she opened them again, Emma had closed her eyes, and was smiling happily as she settled more into the covers. 

With a deep breath and remembering to relax her shoulders, Patsy strummed  _ Here Comes the Sun,  _ a tune that was one of Emma’s favorites, one that Patsy knew made her happy. 

She had made it though one playthrough and was about to start another song when she heard the gentle snores of the four year old, her chest rising and falling slowly under the covers. 

Slowly, Patsy put her guitar down, leaving the headphones on her sister to muffle out any sounds from the room below. She was thankful for the quiet that seemed to fill her room now, the only sounds she could hear from her parents were those of them getting ready for bed. She settled back in at her desk and began to focus on her task at hand, until the shrill sound of the phone ringing in her parents bedroom broke her concentration. Patsy turned to see that the noise didn’t disturb her sister, and found that the girl did not  stir . She was still fast asleep wearing her headphones. 

Still, who would be calling this late? 

Patsy could hear her mother answer the phone, giving one word answers  to whoever was  on the other end of the line. After a minute, there was a definitive ‘Goodbye’ and the sound of the receiver being placed back down on the  cradle . 

_ ‘Who was that?’  _ came her father's gruff voice. Patsy could just imagine how he looked, wearing his blue and white pinstripe pyjamas with a toothbrush hanging from his mouth. 

_ ‘That was Emma's doctor.’  _

A pause. 

_ ‘Well? What is it?’  _ came his muffled reply, then the sound of toothpaste being spat in the sink,  _ ‘Her tests? Did they say anything?’  _

_ ‘Only that they want to see us first thing. With the oncologist.’  _

A long silence followed. 

Patsy strained to hear something, anything. She had not really known much of hospitals other than what she  experienced  when her sister was born and what she had seen on television dramas, or what to expect when a doctor calls you. Her parents always took care of things like that with her. Then again she had always been healthy, never even broken a bone. All she knew from the overheard conversations between her parents were that when the doctor called asking for you to come in after a test, it was never good news. 

And in this instance, it was more likely than not that Emma had cancer. 

Patsy looked back at her sister, tears welling up in her eyes, wondering if everything their parents had been whispering about was really true, their worst fears coming to fruition. She tried not to cry thinking about it, but imagining her sister being sick was much too painful. Even more so not knowing all the answers just yet, not knowing what was going to happen to her, how bad it might get, if she was going to be in any pain. If she was going to die. 

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Patsy didn’t know what else to do but crawl into bed and hold her sister. 

* * *

**_February, 2004._ **

Patsy took the hand of six year old Emma as she jumped over a puddle. The snow that barreled down around them did nothing to deter them from reaching their destination as they walked along the busy road from Emma’s school to the local library. Patsy often walked with Emma here after school let out for the day, not only to look after her sister in the evenings while her parents worked, but to have something for Emma to do while Patsy had a relatively quiet place to do her homework and  revision .

‘Hey! Watch my shoes, cheeky girl!’ Patsy playfully chided. Her sister gave a toothy grin, the girl looking like an adorable jack-o-lantern with several baby teeth missing. 

‘Do you think they’ll have Order of the Phoenix yet?’ she asked as she used a mittened hand to push the knitted cap from her eyes. It was one their mother had made to keep her head nice and warm after she lost her hair from the chemo. 

Patsy was used to seeing her sister completely bald now, but two years ago when she started the chemotherapy, it had been quite a  shock to watch her sister take fistfulls of her wavy blonde hair and pull it clean from her head.

‘Dunno, Em.’ Patsy tucked her scarf into her peacoat as she replied, ‘If they do you’ll have to read it yourself. I’ve got too much work.’ 

Emma groaned in disappointment and slumped her shoulders. 

‘What’s the matter? Too many words?’ Patsy teased. 

‘No! I can read it!’ Emma cried defiantly. 

‘Oh can you?’ Patsy grinned, ‘I hear it's the longest one in the Harry Potter series yet. It doesn't have any pictures you know.’ 

‘I could read it! Probably faster than you!’ Emma boasted, though frowning. 

‘I’m sure you could.’ Patsy sighed, ‘I haven’t got time to read anything for fun anyway.’ 

‘You’re not going to sit with me in the reading circle?’ 

‘Not today, I’ve got too much homework.’ 

‘Like what?’

‘Oh, you know, maths and English and the like. I have a biology project to work on, too.’ 

‘That sounds very boring.’ 

‘It’s not so boring! I love biology. Aren’t you interested in how your body works?’ 

‘Not really,’ Emma replied. ‘My body’s broken anyway.’ 

A searing pain shot through Patsy’s heart at her sister's words. She hated hearing Emma talk like that about herself, especially since it seemed like she was finally acting like a normal kid again, before she would have to go in for her next round of chemo. Before Patsy could say anything, Emma moved on. 

‘Why can’t you study something more exciting like dinosaurs?’ she asked. 

Patsy sighed, then laughed, ‘I would love to learn more about dinosaurs with you. Why don’t you find a few books on dinosaurs you like and you can read them to me later?’ 

Emma stomped her wellie into another puddle, the contents raining on Patsy. 

‘Hey!’ she said, pulling her younger sister aside, ‘if you get my  tights  wet there’ll be no reading circle for you!’ 

Naturally, Emma took that as an invitation to stomp as hard as she could into the next puddle. Anticipating this, Patsy reached out for her sister before the girl had a chance to bring her foot down. 

‘Oh no you don’t you cheeky-’

Emma shrieked with laughter as she was whisked off the ground and carried the rest of the way to the steps of the library, laughing and wiggling in Patsy's arms the entire time. Patsy merely held on tight as she tried to avoid any strange looks from passersby. 

‘Now you get in there and remember we’re in a library!’ Patsy shouted after her sisters retreating form as the girl dashed into the building. 

Patsy soon followed and stood just inside the entrance, unfurling her scarf and brushing the snow out of her hair as the heat in the building stung her nose and cheeks. She could subtly feel her heart beating faster as her eyes scanned over the aisles and desks, but she didn’t want to get her hopes up. 

She tried not to become too overwhelmed with excitement when her eyes landed on the front desk, and she locked eyes with the object of her affection. 

Patsy suddenly felt very self conscious of how she must have looked just then; hair wet and a mess, school uniform unkempt, her shoes probably scuffed and muddy. It didn’t help that she was very aware of the red spots on her face that she could do nothing about since her school, nor her mum or dad, would let her wear makeup. 

She could feel the girl staring though, and Patsy looked down, not wanting to smile, also very aware of her mouthful of braces. She hadn’t liked giving wide toothy grins since the bloody things had been put on about a year ago now. Instead, she had adopted a closed mouth smirk she practiced in the mirror that she didn't think looked half bad. Rather alluring, almost. She liked it because it made her look more grown up. So she smirked, looked up, and ran her fingers through her hair. 

Patsy felt weak at the knees at the sight of the girl smiling back at her. 

Not knowing what else to do, Patsy quickly hurried to an unoccupied desk and sat down, deciding that she really ought to get on with her  work . She stacked her texts on the table and opened her notebooks, all filled with brightly coloured scribbles from class. She reviewed her assignments and cracked open one of the large text books and got to work. 

Every so often Patsy would look up to keep an eye on her sister. Emma seemed to be having a good time with the other children in their little after school reading groups with volunteers who suggested books they could read on their own or activities to do with their peers. Emma seemed to  have found  a friend from school, Patsy deduced anyway, as the girl was wearing the same uniform, to chat animatedly with about whatever was going on in their little six-year-old world. 

Patsy focused again on her books, checking off on her assignments one by one until she had completed just about everything she needed to do for that evening. 

She sat back to give her shoulders a break from slouching for so long. Her eyes scanned the area for her sister just to check on her, but she couldn’t see her with the other children. Patsy figured she would be wandering the aisles for something that piqued her interest, but just to be safe, Patsy rose from her spot and went to look for her. 

She looked through row after row after row of library books, venturing from the children's section, where Patsy thought Emma would be, to history and literature and politics, and she finally heard her sister’s voice coming from the science and biology section.

Patsy turned down the aisle and was surprised to see her sister talking animatedly to an unsuspecting adult, only to her horror, it was the woman who smiled at her when she first walked in. And she was smiling again, now, making Patsy feel a range of emotions that had her frozen in her spot. 

Patsy didn’t know what was going on with her. She didn’t know this person and she certainly didn’t look anything out of the ordinary. A typical librarian for all intents and purposes. Stereotypical, really, with her mustard yellow cardigan and black skirt. Though none of that really mattered to Patsy when all she could focus on was how pretty this woman was, how her dark hair fell over her shoulders, how her brown eyes lit up when in conversation with Emma, how gorgeous her smile was. 

Despite all this, Patsy felt painfully childish standing next to her in her school uniform, with her baggy jumper and knee length skirt. Not to mention the braces. Oh, how she loathed her braces. 

‘I’m sorry, is she bothering you?’ Patsy asked, placing a hand on Emma's shoulder, ‘Emma, leave her be and go back with the other children.’ 

The woman shook her head, smiling kindly, as she placed a book from her cart back to its rightful place on the shelf. ‘No, she’s not bothering me at all.’

‘Papa!’ Emma smiled. ‘I was telling Miss Leilah that you like biology because you like studying bodies.’ 

Patsy couldn’t think of another time in her life when she had felt the blood rush to her face faster than in that moment. 

Patsy’s reaction went unnoticed by Emma when the six-year-old turned back to this ‘Miss Leliah’. 

‘Do you have any books on dinosaurs? I’m looking for one to read Papa at bedtime.’ 

Patsy brought a hand to her face to hide her embarrassment. 

Leilah raised a curious eyebrow, ‘Did she just call you Papa?’

‘’Patsy!’ Patsy replied hurriedly. ‘My name is Patsy, but this one calls me Papa because she’s peculiar,’ she finished, giving her sister a look conveying that she should be quiet. 

‘Papa’s really my sister,’ Emma explained matter of factly, ‘but our real mum and dad are never home because they’re working all the time, so Papa’s more like mum because she looks after me, but also like dad because she sneaks cigarettes in the garden and doesn’t wear a skirt unless she’s in uniform.’ 

‘Emma,’ Patsy said warningly, ‘she doesn’t need to know that. What have I told you about oversharing?’ 

‘I don’t know,’ Emma shrugged, much to Patsy’s annoyance. The girl turned to Leilah, indifferent to Patsy’s mood. ‘So where are the dinosaur books?’ 

Leilah smiled, her shoulders shaking as she chuckled, ‘Well, we have lots of options in that regard. Follow me.’ 

Leilah led them back towards the childrens section where she pointed out several books for Emma to choose from, noting plenty that were within her reading level, but Emma chose the biggest, encyclopedic book from the shelf. When she saw it was full of pictures of all the dinosaurs she could ever imagine, she plunked right down on the floor and sat cross legged, flipping through the pages and tuning out the world around her. 

With Emma occupied, Patsy turned her attention to Leilah, feeling very embarrassed even though the woman was hiding a smile behind her hand. 

‘I’m truly sorry, I know you’re trying to work,’ Patsy managed to say. 

‘No, no, that’s alright.’ Lailah grinned, looking thoroughly amused. ‘All part of the job.’ 

‘Oh, well, thanks…’ Patsy trailed off, unsure of what to say next. Thankfully Leilah chimed in. 

‘So, Patsy was it?’

Patsy nodded. ‘Yes.’ 

‘I think it's really sweet you look after your sister. I’ve got three sisters and two brothers myself, so I certainly can empathize.’

Patsys eyes nearly bulged out of her skull. ‘Wow, big family. Can’t imagine having that many siblings running around, this one’s a handful as is. Must keep you busy at home.’

‘Oh sure. This library has become my refuge for some peace and quiet.’ Leilah sighed and looked back at Emma. ‘Must be tough, you looking after her, given… you know.’ 

Patsy followed her gaze and realized that Leilah was commenting on Emma's lack of hair. 

The brunette went on shyly, ‘Do you mind if I ask… well…’ 

‘Oh, um, leukemia,’ she replied. 

‘Ah,’ Leilah nodded. ‘I’m sorry, I was curious but didn’t want to be insensitive by asking outright…’ 

‘No, it’s alright. She’s, um, she’s been doing chemo. Going on two years now.’ Patsy rubbed her arm awkwardly. Despite how long it had been since her sister's diagnosis, she still found it rather difficult to talk about. 

‘Gosh I can’t imagine,’ Lailah remarked quietly, ‘has it been hard on her? Your family?’

‘Oh, yeah, I mean, the treatments at first were quite a change for her. I still don’t think she’s quite used to them, but it all seems to be helping. She has good and bad days, but…’ Patsy trailed off, not really wanting to divulge further. Leilah didn’t need to know how miserable Emma usually was after her treatments, how she was sick and weak three weeks out of the month. 

Patsy reckoned they were all lucky Emma was having one of her good days. 

‘Children are resilient in that way, aren’t they?’

Not knowing how to respond, Patsy simply nodded. 

‘You know,’ Leilah went on, ‘it doesn’t surprise me what she said about your parents.’ 

Patsy blinked, having forgotten all about that bit of the conversation earlier. ‘My parents?’

‘I just see you two here all the time, is all.’ Leilah shrugged. ‘I just figured your parents must be more the free range type to let you be out all the time but… I don’t know. Is everything OK at home?’

Patsy raised an eyebrow. ‘Ah, well, I mean, we all get on alright if that’s what you're asking.’ 

‘Sorry, I don’t mean to pry,’ Leilah waved her hand, ‘they just give us training to look out for kids who hang out here all the time, you know, might not want to go home to a bad situation or something…’ 

‘Oh, gosh, no!’ Patsy fretted, feeling rather embarrassed. Was this woman only speaking to them because she thought they came from a broken home?! ‘There’s nothing bad going on, it’s just my mum and dad  _ do  _ work all the time, so bringing Emma here gives her something to do while I study.’ 

‘Oh? What do your parents do?’

‘Oh, my dad owns his own business… it’s really starting to pick up so it’s taken over his life. He’s never home, and when he is, he’s always on the phone with some partner or other, and Mum works in real estate, so her hours are all over the place. You never know when she’s coming or going…’ Patsy trailed off nervously, wondering if she was talking too much. 

‘You mind if I ask what year you’re in?’ Leilah continued to gently pry, and Patsy was beginning to feel rather embarrassed doing all this talking about herself. 

‘Ah, no,’ she replied, ‘I’m in  year 12, 6th form . Set to take my A-levels next spring. You?’

‘Oh, I left school last year. Didn’t bother taking those exams, though I wanted to.’

‘What?’ Patsy was taken back by this information, finding it difficult to process. It was inconceivable to her that someone would just…  _ leave  _ school without taking their A-levels. ‘ How come ?’ 

Leilah crossed her arms. ‘Unlike yours, my parents are a little too involved in my life,’ she sighed, ‘they’re not the type to think women should go on to uni.’

‘That’s…’ Patsy’s brain was slow to form a reply that wasn’t outright rude, ‘...a really antiquated way of thinking of the world.’ 

‘Yes, well,’ Lailah sighed, ‘they think I would be better off married to some nice Jewish boy.’

Leilah looked sad, but smiled anyway. 

‘They’ve tried pairing me up, but I keep turning them down. I think I’m slowly driving my mother mad, but I just don’t fancy being married. Especially to some boy.’ 

‘What would you like to do instead?’

‘Well… I thought I wanted to be a teacher. But then I took a job here and… well, the more I read about the world, the more I realize how much I don’t know... ‘ 

‘That shouldn't stop you.’ 

‘I know, just… given my current situation, I don’t think a chance at higher education is on the cards for me…’ 

Patsy still didn’t really understand what Leilah was saying. Her whole life she was told that school was her only path. She didn’t know any other way, and for her to hear from someone that education wasn’t something she could consider as a path to their future, well, it almost defied logic, so much so that it stalled her brain  in composing a proper response. She just couldn’t think of anything. Thankfully, she didn’t need to as Leilah changed the subject. 

‘So… what about you? Have any boyfriends?’ 

Patsy allowed herself to actually smile, not thinking about her dreadful braces for once, as the idea of her dating a boy was highly absurd. 

‘No, absolutely not.’

‘No?’ Leilah raised an eyebrow and Patsy’s heart skipped a beat. ‘Well I suppose not with your studies and looking after your sister and all.’ 

‘I wouldn’t want one even if I didn’t have all that going on,’ Patsy went on, feeling a little chip on her shoulder about the subject. She’d received many of the same questions from her mates at school through the years and never once had she ever shown any interest in any of the boys in her social circles. Almost automatically, Patsy blurted out what she had always thought to herself in this situation. ‘Having a boyfriend isn’t the  be all and end all . Besides, boys are just… I don’t know how to describe it. They lack certain things... and have too much of others. For my tastes, anyway,’ she grumbled. 

To her surprise, Leilah smiled, and Patsy felt like she had said the right thing. 

Patsy was thrumming with a positive energy as she walked home, even as she and her sister braved the cold icy February weather. She was thrilled that she had finally had a chance to talk to the woman she… what,  _ fancied _ ? No, couldn't be. Patsy didn’t fancy anyone,  she never had . There was just something about Leilah  Patsy felt  drawn to her, wanted to be her friend and talk with her. She  _ didn’t  _ fancy her. Sure, Leilah caught her attention one day and Patsy was struck by how attractive she thought she was, and since then she had always looked for her whenever she and Emma went to the library. Sure, Patsy would be sad on those days Leilah wasn’t around… 

But she  _ didn’t  _ fancy her. She didn’t even  _ know  _ her! Even so, Patsy still didn’t fancy her. Patsy knew girls could fancy other girls, but  _ she  _ wasn’t like  _ that _ . She had never thought of anyone like  _ that _ ever.

Any internal conflicts she might have been mulling over in her mind dissipated the moment she and Emma walked in the door to the sight of their mother. She was fast asleep on the sofa in the lounge, the television on QI. Judging by the shoes and handbag tossed haphazardly on the floor, and the snoring, Patsy reckoned her mother had come home drunk. Again. Probably from another happy hour with the other realtors in her group. Since Emma had been in school, Margaret had taken it upon herself to do something with her time, and that was to try and climb the social ladder of the London elite by selling them prime real estate. The London market was competitive and high stakes; Margaret would typically be out late trying to prove she could keep up with the others, including celebrating with them when they made a good sale. She was left many nights coming home in her current state, so much so that Patsy had grown accustomed and didn’t think anything of it anymore. 

‘You go on and wash up, Em,’ Patsy said, ushering her sister towards the stairs, ‘I’ll see what I can scrounge up for supper.’ 

Patsy waited until her sister had disappeared up the stairs before turning off the television and heating up some leftover Chinese takeaway. 

She lay in bed later that evening with her headphones in her ears, thinking back on her conversation with Leilah. Well, first of all, she established to herself that  _ Leilah  _ was the prettiest name she had ever heard, and said it over and over again in her head so she wouldn’t forget it the next time she saw her.

* * *

‘Nice to see you again.’ 

Patsy turned in her chair to see Leilah standing above her, smiling kindly. ‘Oh, hi’

Leilah pulled out the chair beside Patsy and looked to the device resting in her hand as she sat down. ‘What’s that?’

‘Oh, it’s an iPod,’ Patsy stated, almost proudly, ‘a birthday gift from my parents.’ 

Leilah grinned, ‘It’s your birthday?’ 

‘Yeah, a few days ago.’ Patsy smiled shyly, ‘I’m officially 17.’ 

‘Well happy birthday Patsy.’ Leilah smiled. 

Patsy raked her fingers through her hair, not knowing what else to do with them. ‘Thanks.’

Leilah’s eyes focused on the iPod in Patsy's hands. ‘So… I’ve seen these in the shop window adverts, but I haven’t the foggiest… how does that work?’ 

‘It’s like a walkman… though it uses memory to store music. I’ve managed to put my entire CD collection on it over the weekend.’

‘Truly? Goodness, but it’s so small.’ 

‘I know, quite ingenious, isn’t it?’

Leilah smirked, ‘Well now I need to see what kind of music you listen to.’ 

‘Oh, all sorts really.’ Patsy began, excited to talk to Leilah about something she loved very much, ‘I have a bunch of pop from the 70’s and 80’s thanks to my mum. My dad liked the old doo-wop records his parents listened to, and I’ve been discovering old emo music from the 80’s like The Cure and Joy Division, Sonic Youth and the like.’

‘Ee-mo?’ Leilah repeated, unsure. 

Patsy blushed and laughed, ‘Yeah, just a bunch of toffs singing about being heartbroken and misunderstood.’

Leilah raised an amused eyebrow. ‘That appeals to you?’

Patsy laughed shyly, slouching slightly in her seat. ‘Suppose it appeals to a lot of teenagers…’ 

‘Which one is your favorite?’ 

‘Which one?’

‘Yeah…’ Leilah took the Ipod and used her thumb to turn the dial on the iPod, then shook her head, her eyes glazing over in awe at all the song titles that flickered past. ‘I mean, it must be hard to choose one. It amazes me there's this much music out there…’ 

‘Oh, I’m sure this is only an infinitesimal sampling of all the songs that exist. Do you have a favorite song?’ 

Lailah sighed, and smiled sadly. ‘We didn’t really listen to music growing up. No old record collection of my parents to sift through like you did.’ 

‘Oh, that’s alright. Honestly, I’ve been listening to this one song from the Smashing Pumpkins on repeat called Cherub Rock, and just… the first minute of the song is this amazing guitar intro and I’ve been trying to learn how to play-’

‘Play?’ 

‘On the guitar, yeah.’ 

Leilah’s eyes widened. ‘You play the guitar?’ 

Patsy smiled and nodded, holding out an earbud. ‘Do you want to have a listen?’ 

Leilah smiled awkwardly, blushing. ‘How do I…?’ she held the earbud in her hand not knowing what to do with it. 

‘Oh, it’s alright, I honestly think I still prefer the ones that sit over your ears, but these just settle nice and snug in your ear like this,’ Patsy explained. She took the earbud from Leilah’s hand and without even thinking about it, tucked Leilah's brown hair behind her ear before she situated the earbud. 

Patsy pulled away and focused on her iPod, pretending as if nothing had happened even though her heart was beating frantically in her chest from such intimate contact. She desperately hoped Leilah wouldn’t notice how flustered she felt.

She placed the other earbud in her left ear, and hit play on the song. 

The two sat shoulder to shoulder, simply listening, though Patsy felt all her senses come to life. The warmth of Leilah and the natural and welcoming scent of her was not something she could ignore. 

‘This is rock music, right?’ Leilah asked.

Patsy gulped, and forced a smirk, ‘I’d say so, yeah.’ 

‘I think I like it.’ 

Someone clearing their throat quite loudly caught their attention, and both Patsy and Leilah looked over to a woman who was glaring expectantly at Leilah. Patsy noted the employee badge clipped to the woman’s jumper, and reckoned she was Leilah’s superior, given the daggers she was staring in their direction. 

‘Oh, oh dear. I should probably,’ Leilah removed the earbud and quickly got to her feet, ‘get back to work.’ 

‘Right yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you.’ 

‘No Patsy, it’s fine, I liked it’. 

‘Hey Leilah?’ Patsy quietly called out. It was the first time she had said the woman's name out loud and she liked the way it rolled off her tongue. ‘I could make you a CD if you like.’ 

Leilah smirked, a little dimple poking through. ‘I would rather hear you play your guitar.’ 

She turned and walked away leaving Patsy quite beside herself. 

* * *

After spending much of the following day mustering up the courage to  fulfill  Leilah's request, Patsy rushed home after school that Friday to snag her guitar and bring it to the library. She was gutted to find that Leilah wasn’t there that day, nor would she be back until the following week. 

‘Of course she’s not here,’ some woman behind the counter stamping overdue books remarked, ‘probably be in… what’d she call it?’

‘Shabbat,’ came another woman piling books onto a cart. 

‘Right, probably at Shabbat with her family all day tomorrow. Don’t know why we hired someone who couldn’t work Fridays and Saturdays.’ 

Another woman looked up from her book and sighed. ‘Because that would be horribly discriminatory, you absolute numpty.’ 

‘Oh, I’m a numpty, now, am I? Who was it wanted to digitalize the standard filing procedures? Now the system’s down and we’re stuck here all hours filing everything manually.’ 

The other woman rolled her eyes and sighed, looking back to her book. 

‘Don’t know what was ever wrong with Dewey Decimal,’ she continued to grumble, harshly stamping her books. 

It was then Patsy decided to slowly back away with the woman grumbling to herself, and she left the library, her hopes dashed and her guitar feeling very heavy in her hand. 

Despite this, she decided she preferred walking home than catching the bus. It was nearing spring after all, and the weather was actually nice that evening, the breeze warm and the trees starting to bloom. Patsy was lost in her thoughts as she walked towards home, passing a park her and her sister often frequented. Today though, when she looked over at the group of children playing football, she  saw someone familiar through the chainlink . 

‘Leilah,’ she said out loud.

Patsy looked both ways and crossed the street, grasping onto the fence before she called out to the woman. 

‘Leilah!’ 

Leilah turned at the sound of her name and smiled when she spotted Patsy. The redhead smiled and felt relief wash over her body as Leilah quickly trotted over to her. 

‘Hi! Fancy seeing you here!’ Leilah greeted enthusiastically. 

Patsy was filled with delight at her presence and smile. ‘I was just on my way home. What are you doing here?’

‘Trying to tucker out my brothers and sisters before they head to bed for the evening,’ she nodded over to the group of children chasing around a ball. 

‘I was just at the library looking for you,’ Patsy said. ‘They said you don't work the weekends.’ 

‘Right, my family wouldn't like it if I worked on the sabbath…’ Leilah's eyes drifted to the case in Patsy’s hands. ‘What's that you got there?” 

‘My guitar. It’s just… last time we… well, you said…’ Patsy trailed off nervously, feeling rather silly for standing there in the park with her guitar. 

‘I want to hear you play?” 

‘Yeah.’ 

Leilah nodded over her shoulder. ‘‘Why don’t you come in here?’ 

Patsy quickly found the opening to the tall chain link fence and headed towards Leilah, who had sat down on a bench and was patting the space next to herself, patiently waiting for Patsy to join her. 

‘Well?’ Leilah asked expectantly as Patsy sat. 

Patsy rushed to remove her acoustic guitar from her case, not noticing the other woman who approached. 

‘Leilah, who's your shiksa friend?’ came a voice. 

Patsy looked up to see someone about her age, her hair covered and wearing modest clothing similar to that Leilah was wearing. 

_ ‘Rebecca _ ,’ Leilah chided. 

‘I’m Patsy. I know Leilah from the library.’ 

‘Oh, the library,’ Rebecca said, sounding bored as she looked to Leilah, ‘Still don’t know why you waste your time there.’ 

‘That’s none of your business, and don’t be rude,’ Leilah replied sternly. 

Rebecca placed her hands on her hips and forced a smile. 

‘So, Patsy, are you a bookworm like this one?’ 

‘Sort of. Just want to get good marks on my A-levels so I can get into a good uni.’ 

‘Hmm, and what do you plan to do there?’

‘I want to study biology, maybe work in the medical field… something with pediatrics. Anything with children, really.’ 

‘Well you can certainly work with children without having to attend uni. I mean, that’s what we do, isn’t it, Leilah?’ she waved her hands dismissively, ‘don’t see the point in uni. What we do is more important.’ 

A cry broke through the conversation. One of the children was sitting on the ground, wailing and holding their knee as the others around him looked worried. 

‘Right, well, duty calls,’ Rebecca held her hands up. ‘It was nice to meet you, Patsy.’ 

‘Nice to… um…’ Patsy trailed off as Rebecca began to walk away without waiting for a response. 

‘Ignore her. Most of the others here don’t take jobs like I have so they don’t know many… um, non-jews,’ Lailah replied awkwardly. 

‘That’s alright,’ Patsy was not at all bothered by the interruption, and strummed a chord on her guitar, warming up. ‘Do you have any requests?’ 

‘Well,’ Leilah began almost proudly, ‘since last we met, I’ve been listening to old CDs in the library.’ 

‘Alright.’ 

‘Have you ever heard of The Beatles?’ 

Patsy was taken back by a question so absurd. ‘Have I… are you serious?’ 

Leilah  dropped her smile , ‘Oh, no, have I said something stupid?’ 

‘No, no,’ Patsy backtracked her prior comment noting the look on Leilah's face. The woman seemed to genuinely not know who the Beatles were and she didn't want to make her feel bad for not knowing. ‘I’m sorry, Leilah, I didn’t mean to make fun, I just…  _ yes _ , I’ve heard of the Beatles. Know quite a few of their songs, too.’ 

Despite her words, Leilah was blushing, looking rather embarrassed. 

‘Really, Leilah, it’s alright,’ Patsy said, hoping to calm the woman's nerves. ‘I have a song of theirs I like to play for my sister when she’s feeling blue. Would you like to hear it?’ 

Slowly, Leilah smiled and nodded, ‘Of course I would.’ 

Patsy closed her eyes, and even though she was wracked with nerves, she took a deep breath and willed herself to calm down, and slowly began to play the opening chords to Here Comes the Sun. 

Despite her nerves, Patsy went against every natural instinct to not embarrass herself and instead softly sang the lyrics to the song. She didn’t think she could sing, and in any other circumstance she would rather eat glass than to sing while she played, but Leilah was different. She wanted to make a fool of herself if it meant Leilah would keep smiling at her like that. 

All this to impress some girl. Why had she never acted this way before? What was different? 

The questions she thought to herself went unanswered. Patsy ended the song and Leilah sighed. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything so beautiful.’ 

Patsy grinned, but then remembered she had horrible braces in her mouth, and looked down shyly. 

‘You’re so talented, Patsy, I’m jealous.’ 

‘Oh, no, come on.’ Patsy replied bashfully, placing her guitar back in its case. 

‘No, really, that was marvelous.’ 

‘Yeah, but, there's got to be something that drives you. What's your passion?’

Leilah was taken back by the question, her mouth opening and closing again and she looked rather perplexed and unsure how to answer. 

Finally, Leilah smirked, and looked down sadly, ‘You know, in all the dates that shadchan set me up with, none of those boys ever asked me these kinds of questions.’ 

‘That what?’

‘Matchmaker.’ 

Patsy raised an eyebrow. ‘You mean like in  _ Fiddler On The Roof _ ?’ 

Leilah smiled, and nodded. 

‘Really?’ she replied, almost exasperated. ‘But it’s modern times, surely you can choose for yourself?’

Leilah opened her mouth to say something, then stopped herself, looking like she was unsure of how to respond. 

‘Oh, god, maybe not? I’m really sorry, I have no idea what I’m talking about so please tell me to shut up if…’ 

‘Patsy, it's alright. It’s OK to have questions. I know I have so many… It’s just, in our community marriage just isn’t between a boy and girl. The whole family is involved, and, well, families just want what’s best for their children, don’t they?’ 

Patsy shrugged, fiddling with the edge of her skirt. ‘Suppose.’ 

‘Well, my parents want me to be married, and the shadchan matches me with potential husbands. We go on dates just like anyone else; walks around the park, out for coffee,’ she sighed despondent, ‘ony with a chaperone of course. My sister Hannah typically tags along, and to be quite honest I’d prefer just hanging out with her than going on these bloody dreadful dates.’ 

Patsy raised an eyebrow. ‘Really?’

Leilah rolled her eyes. ‘These boys are so smothered by their mothers that they’re devoid of any personalities. They just do what they’re told, no passion or drive to do anything whatsoever… I can at the very least use that as an excuse to not want to see them again. Drives my parents mad that I’m still not engaged though.’ 

‘But you’re only 18, aren't you?’

Leilah nodded.

‘What if you don’t want to get married? What if that’s not what’s best for you?’

‘Well, in the end it’s not really just about me, is it... ‘ she sighed, and forced a smile. ‘How is your sister? Emma?’

Patsy opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Leilah's smile dropped. 

‘Oh no, what’s happened?’ she asked worriedly. 

Patsy furrowed her eyebrows, ‘No, it’s… she’s just taken a bad turn recently. Fell and cut her knee… and wouldn’t stop bleeding. Bad sign.’ 

‘I see.’ 

‘She’s gone to the doctors today for some blood tests, so we’ll see…’ 

Someone shouted in their direction something Patsy couldn’t understand. Leilah ignored her friend calling out to her in Yiddish with a sense of urgency. Instead, she reached out and took Patsy's hand in hers, her eyes focused on the redhead. 

‘I hope she’s well.’ 

Patsy squeezed back. ‘Me too.’ 

* * *

**_April_ **

‘I’ve been writing to my aunt in Tel Aviv.’

Patsy skimmed a long finger over the row of modern world history books she needed for reference on her last essay for the term. She was led to this section with the help of Leilah, even though she knew very well just where to find these books. She just wanted an excuse to be close to her whenever she came here. 

‘Oh?’ 

Leilah leaned against the bookshelf and sighed, nodding. She played with her fingers nervously as she went on quietly, ‘I’ve been telling her how mum and dad are pressuring me to marry, when it’s not what I want. Not now anyway.’ 

‘So you do want to get married then?’ Patsy asked, the thought making her sad for reasons she didn't quite understand. 

‘Someday, sure, but just not… not with…’ Leilah trailed off and gave an exasperated sigh, ‘I just can’t see myself with any of these boys the shadchan chooses for me… or any boy at all really.’ 

Patsy flashed a smirk at the last part of that sentence mumbled under Leilah's breath, feeling rather relieved that her friend didn’t want to waste time with some silly boy. 

‘Well what did she say?’ she asked, tucking a book back on the shelf. 

‘She says I shouldn’t do anything I don’t want to…’

Patsy turned to her, focusing all her attention on her now. ‘And?’ 

‘And she asked me what I wanted. What I truly wanted to do with my life…’ 

Leilah looked as if she were gathering her nerve to say what she wanted to say next, so Patsy remained silent and waited for her to continue. 

‘And… and I want to go to uni, Patsy. I want to get an education and… and, well, I don’t know what for, but I’ll figure it out.’

Patsy cracked a smile. ‘Leilah, that’s great. You’re bloody brilliant and would do really well in uni no matter what you went for.’ 

‘I just want to study everything, Patsy,’ Leilah went on, seemingly not able to hear Patsy. She looked excited with hope in her eyes, like a great change for her was on the horizon. ‘I feel like so much has been kept from me and I want to read every book and visit every city and I just… can’t do that if I stay here and get married…’ 

Patsy blinked, a feeling of dread suddenly settling low in her stomach as she waited for Leilah to continue. 

‘The thing is… I wanted to tell you…’ 

‘Tell me what?’ 

‘...my aunt has offered to let me stay with her. She said I could enroll at the university there and… and Patsy, I could do whatever I want,’ Leilah sighed, sounding exhilarated, as if she had never known agency over her own life was possible for her. ‘I could become something more than… well… just somebody's wife.’ 

Patsy looked away, feeling anxiety swell in her chest. The thought of Leilah leaving settled on her like a ton of bricks. The one friend she had outside of her casual school chums would be leaving her for a better future, which, admittedly if she were truly her friend she would be over the moon happy for her, right? Then why did she feel so sad about it? 

‘Y-you have to do what’s best for you,’ she managed to choke out, ignoring the shake in her voice and the swell of tears in her eyes. She forced a smile and tried not to meet Leilah’s eyes. ‘This is exciting news, Leilah, I’m really happy for you, truly.’ 

Leilah took a step forward and reached out. ‘Patsy, what’s this? You don’t look happy…’ 

‘Sorry, I never cry.’ Patsy harshly wiped a tear as she looked away. ‘I think I just… the thought of you leaving really upsets me for some reason…’ 

‘Oh, Patsy, zeeskeit, don’t cry,’ Leilah said softly, bringing a hand to Patsy's cheek and gently turning her to face her. ‘You’re so important to me, you know. I see all the hard work you do and how smart you are.’  With her thumb she  wiped a tear away, forcing Patsy to look at her as she sniffed. ‘You’re so beautiful, and talented, and so, so sweet. Your friendship is what gave me the courage to say yes.’ 

‘It was?’

‘Yes… you mean so much to me, Patsy. I see everything you do and it makes me want to be better. I know I can be better… I just have to take this chance…’ 

Patsy reached up and rested her hand on top of Leilah’s, closing her eyes and allowing for what she could only describe as instinct to take over her words and actions. ‘You don’t need to be better. I already think you’re perfect.’ 

She closed her eyes and rested her lips on the palm of Leilah's soft hand, and without thinking she brought her lips to her wrist and gently grazed them along the soft skin there. 

Leilah gasped, and pulled her hand away. The motion brought Patsy back to the moment and she immediately regretted her actions. 

The two girls stood there, shocked, neither knowing what to do or say. 

Patsy didn’t know what she was thinking. She had never touched another person like that before in her life and she didn’t know why she was so drawn to touch Leilah like that. She needed to snap out of whatever it was she was feeling and remember that they were just friends! 

‘I’m so-’ 

Patsy didn’t have a chance to get her apology out, as Leilah had stepped forward and pressed her lips to hers. 

It was her first kiss. Patsy wondered if this was Leilah’s first kiss, too, because of how foreign and awkward it seemed to feel to the two of them. Closed mouthed and frantic in their motions, the teenagers stumbled backwards until Patsy’s back hit a stack of books that toppled noisily to the floor, breaking them apart. 

Leilah took a step back, looking genuinely horrified by her behavior. 

‘I-I’m sorry,’ Leilaa  stuttered  out, ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’ 

She moved to get away, run, even, if she could have gotten away with it. She was like a frightened bird that wanted to fly away,  but was halted when Patsy placed a hand on her arm and held her gently. 

‘I’m glad you did. I wanted you to,’ she said firmly. 

Patsy’s steadfastness seemed to calm Leilah. Still, the woman took a deep breath and looked like she wanted to run far, far away. 

‘I shouldn’t have, Patsy… I… I can’t… I need to… I’m not staying here. I really mean it when I said I was going to my aunt’s. I… can’t... ‘ 

‘I’m not asking you to,’ Patsy choked out, even if saying so went against everything she was feeling. ‘I don’t care if this is the only moment we ever have like this… I… I just want you to kiss me again.’ 

Patsy’s eyes rested on Leilah’s lips, wanting them pressed against hers. She needed to be close to the woman, to smell her and feel her pressed against her again, just once more, even if it was only for a second. 

After what seemed like several moments of internal debate in Leilah's mind, the woman slowly stepped forward, and Patsy took her in her arms. Gently and with much more grace and patience than before, the two slowly came together for a sweet, unforgettable kiss. 

The moment was life changing for Patsy. 

* * *

Patsy was experiencing a broad range of emotions during the walk home that evening. She was elated, overjoyed that someone out there in this world liked her enough to think she was beautiful. Even kiss her, but as fate would have it that person was not to stay in her life. She was sad and angry and hurt over it, but no matter how much she hated it she knew that Leilah leaving here was the only way she would have a happy life. 

And if you loved someone, you let them go, right? 

Patsy walked through the front door and was shocked to see both her parents sitting in the lounge with the television on. Her father, who had been away on business, looked as if he had just arrived home from the airport, still dressed in business attire with his hair slicked back. His small rolling suitcase was sitting by the stairs. 

He rose from his chair and placed his hands on his hips, a move he thought gave him some authority, but  just reminded Patsy of Peter Pan. 

‘Where have you been?’ he asked gruffly, his mustache bristling. 

‘Charles,’ Margaret said warningly. 

Patsy looked over to her mother and noted she tiredly set down an empty wine glass on the table. She was so tipsy she nearly missed the table and almost dropped the glass to the floor. She caught it just in time. 

‘It’s nearly nine o’clock, Patience,’ Charles said sternly. ‘You have school tomorrow.’ 

Patsy found this affront absurd. Was her father trying to do some actual parenting? 

‘What’s the matter? I was at the library like I always am.’ 

Her father gave a disbelieving snort, but remained silent under Margaret’s stern gaze. 

‘What’s going on?’ Patsy asked, raising an eyebrow. ‘You two are never home at the same time.’ 

‘Patsy, sit down with us, would you?’ her mother asked. 

‘Why? What is it?’ Patsy looked around and noted that Emma was nowhere to be found. ‘Where’s Emma? Is she alright?’

‘Emma is upstairs resting, now would you please sit?’ Charles asked. ‘We need to talk to you.’ 

Stubbornly, Patsy remained standing. 

‘Emma’s school called me earlier today,’ Margaret began. ‘She had a spell. Was so tired she was falling asleep at her desk. I took her to hospital and… we had a meeting with the oncologist.’ 

‘And?’

‘And… well I’ve lost track of how many times we’ve seen them just this year. Another infection, they said.’

Patsy waited for her mother to continue while she blew her nose. Upon a closer look, it looked as if her mother had been crying for some time, given her red face and puffy eyes. Patsy’s eyes darted to her father and he looked similarly distressed, though she had never known him to cry. 

He sat on the edge of his recliner and looked as if he were choosing his words very carefully. 

‘Patsy,’ he began, rubbing his hands on his knees before leaning forward and interlocking his fingers. ‘The doctors think it's in Emma’s best interest if… if we stop the chemotherapy treatment.’ 

Patsy looked at her father incredulously as what he said sank in. The reality of it all. If Emma stopped her chemo then… 

‘I’m…’ Patsy placed a hand on her hip, not knowing what else to do with it, as she tried to work this out in her head. Tears welled up in her eyes for the second time that night, but this time she was not ashamed to hide them. ‘So you mean you’re just… going to let her die?’

Margaret shook her head, clutching her fist, ‘Do you honestly think we would let that happen  if there were any other options left , Patsy?!’ 

‘Well this can’t be it!’ Patsy shouted, ‘There’s got to be something! Anything!’ 

‘You don’t understand, Patsy!’ Margaret rose from her seat and took a step towards Patsy, as if the motion was going to somehow get her point across. ‘It’s been  _ three  _ years! Her body is  _ not  _ responding to the treatments anymore! It’s all pointless at this stage!’ 

Charles rose from his seat and placed a hand on Margaret’s shoulder. She took the tissue in her hand and covered her face, completely unraveling and sobbing right in front of Patsy. Charles took her in his arms and let her cry on his shoulder. 

It was the most intimate Patsy had ever  seen  her parents. 

‘Patsy,’ her father said softly as her mother continued to sob and whine into his shoulder. ‘I know it’s hard to hear, but we’ll only be doing more harm than good if we keep going.’ 

If we keep going.  _ If we keep going.  _

The words were repeated over and over again in Patsy's mind in that moment, searing into her brain. It was inconceivable to her that they would stop treatments, that they would just stop trying. 

Patsy was so fraught with disbelief that she felt  she might faint. Instead, she threw her rucksack down and bolted up the two flights of stairs, not stopping until she reached Emma's room. 

She could still see the light from the little lamp that sat on the bedside table seeping through the crack under the door. Quietly, she turned the knob and opened the door, peeking through to see her sister snuggly tucked under the covers with her beloved Pooh bear. 

Patsy watched as Emma shifted in bed, rubbing her eye and sitting up, ‘Papa?’ 

Patsy wanted to kick herself for waking her sister, but she relented and entered the room, feeling like she needed to be close to her. She sighed and sat on the bed next to her. 

Emma lay back down on her pillows and tiredly looked back at Patsy as the teenager rested a hand on her cheek, needing to make some kind of physical contact with her sister. 

‘How are you feeling?’ Patsy asked softly. 

‘Good,’ Emma said simply. ‘Mummy said I don’t have to do chemo anymore.’

Patsy nearly smirked. ‘What do you think about that?’ 

‘I’m glad.’ 

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah. No more needles or feeling queasy after treatments. No more going to hospital. I’m all done.’ 

Patsy sighed, ‘I know, but the treatments were… they were helping the cancer go away.’ 

‘Not fast enough.’ 

‘Yeah,’ Patsy said softly, ‘not fast enough.’ 

Emma closed her eyes and leaned into Patsy's hand as the teenager stroked her sister's cheek. 

‘Papa, I don’t want to feel sick anymore,’ the six-year-old said feebly. 

Patsy moved to lay down next to her sister, facing her. She didn’t want to take her eyes off her. 

‘Did Mummy or the doctors say what might happen if you stop?’ Patsy asked. 

‘They said I would feel better,’ Emma replied, then paused before she went on. ‘Mummy said I might die.’ 

‘Did she?’ Patsy managed a small smile even though Emma saying it so casually pained her heart. ‘Do you know what happens when someone dies?’

‘One of the nurses said when you die it’s like falling asleep except you never wake up, but you stop feeling any pain.’ 

Patsy nodded, feeling hot, heavy teardrops forming in the corners of her eyes. 

‘Why are you crying?’ Emma asked. 

‘Well I’m going to miss you, silly.’ Patsy sniffed. 

‘Why?’

‘Because when you die, that’s it. You’re gone away forever and we’ll never see each other again.’ 

‘That’s not true. Mummy says when we all die we become angels and we’ll all be together in heaven one day.’ 

Patsy gave a noncommittal hum. Her parents may have thought differently, but Patsy didn’t really believe in God or angels or heaven, but she wasn’t about to tell her sister otherwise. If it made Emma and her parents feel better to think they would all be together in death then she wasn’t going to say otherwise. 

Emma pulled the covers up to her nose, looking almost mischievous. 

‘What is it?’ Patsy asked. 

‘I was just thinking I finally get to do something  _ before  _ you for once.’ 

Patsy cracked a small smile, her throat burning as she held back the urge to cry. 

‘I know, I just… wish it were anything but this…’ 

‘Why?’ Emma asked, giving a tired, yet toothy grin, ‘Jealous?’

Patsy let out a feeble chuckle, and slowly nodded. 

‘Yes, very.’ 

Laying there on her sister's pillow, she could feel the hot tears stream over the bridge of her nose and down her cheek. 

Patsy reached out and stroked Emma’s cheek once more before watching as the six-year-old tiredly fluttered her eyes closed. 

‘I would trade places with you in a heartbeat if I could,’ she whispered. 

* * *

**_August_ ** . 

Patsy vaguely heard the sounds of what should have been pleasant elevator music emanating from the department store speakers, but it all just sounded like an annoying thrumming to Patsy's ears.  _ All  _ music sounded like that recently. All colours seemed muted, all tastes seemed bland. Life had no colour for her anymore, no character. 

No purpose. 

The sounds of heels clicking on linoleum flooring could be heard, but Patsy paid it no mind, her brain straining to focus on the task at hand. 

‘Hi there.’ The friendly attendant smiled as she approached. 

Patsy did not look up at her. Instead, she sifted through a rack of clothing in front of her. All girls dresses, lots of bows and bright colours. She wondered what Emma would like. Probably none of these. If her mother had any say in the matter she would have chosen the one with the most unnecessary frills to remind people that her child with no hair was, indeed, a girl. Her mother wasn’t here though. Too distraught with grief to get out of bed the last few days, so Patsy's father had sent her out for this particular errand. 

Patsy felt like this was her own personal hell. 

‘Are you shopping for anyone in particular?’ the attendant asked curiously. 

‘Yes, my sister,’ Patsy replied robotically, noisily scraping the metal hangers along the rack. Everything was so jam packed together on this bloody thing it was hard to really see. 

‘Oh, that’s so sweet of you!’ the attendant gushed, despite Patsy remaining stone faced. ‘What’s the occasion?’ 

Patsy pulled out a white dress from the rack, her thumb grazing over the lace collar. 

‘Her funeral.’ 

  
  
  
  
  


* * *

**_September_ **

A door opening abruptly woke Patsy from her depressed slumber. It almost pained her to open her eyes, but the sounds of her father tromping through her room and opening her closet door was too much to ignore. 

‘Get up.’ 

Patsy remained nonplussed by his stern tone, shifting in her spot but making no move to actually rise from her bed. She did not wish to move or do anything, quite honestly, for the rest of her life, if she could help it. She had lost all motivation to exist. 

‘I’ve called in a lot of favors to get you a place at this school last minute,’ her father went on, pulling a rolling suitcase from the top shelf of the closet. He tossed it onto the foot of the bed, and Patsy grunted from beneath the duvet. 

‘You didn’t have to. I don’t want to go.’ 

‘Nonsense, now pack your suitcase.’

Of all the times her father had to step in as an authoritative figure, why did he have to pick fucking now?!

‘Why should I listen to you?!’

‘Because I’m your father and I have a say in your education, young lady!’ 

‘Oh, so you’re going to parent me now, hmm?’ Patsy made a noise like the notion of it was absolutely absurd. ‘Why do you give a shit now?! You never cared before!’ 

‘Don’t swear, Patsy, it’s unbecoming of a lady.’ 

Patsy tisked and rolled over, not caring to hear any more from him. She knew she didn’t have any power over him, unfortunately. She knew she would have to go along with whatever it was he had planned for her, but if she could annoy him to the point of anger she would feel vindicated. She threw a pillow over her head and shut her eyes tight. Her father removed it and harshly pulled off the covers. 

Patsy sat up at once and turned to him. ‘Hey!’ 

Charles took a steady breath through his nose, his eyebrows knitted and gaze focused on Patsy. 

Patsy nearly gulped at the intensity of his stare before he finally spoke. 

‘I’ll admit I haven’t always been there,’ Charles said slowly, ‘but that’s changing now.’ 

‘But why?! I’m practically an adult, shouldn’t I have a say-’ 

‘When it comes to your education-’ 

‘What, so you think the best thing for me is to uproot my life and throw me into some boarding school in the country?! After everything I’ve been through you want to take me away from my home and my friends and my school and anything I care about-’ 

Patsy stopped herself there, thinking that all the people she loved were gone. 

Maybe her father was right. What was the point in staying here? Leilah was gone. Emma was gone, her mother  sent away…  and what friends was she talking about? She wasn’t exactly close with anyone at school, was she. 

Patsy felt weak, realizing everything she had ever known had changed. All the things she had relied on to be a constant in her life were no longer there. Her life was crumbling and falling away from under her feet and she wondered too if she ought to just give in and fall with it. 

‘Patsy…’ Charles started. He paused only to take a breath and sit on the edge of Patsy's bed. He rested his head in his hands before he seemed to find his words. ‘This has been a challenging year for all of us.’ 

Another pause. 

‘But you need… structure. Structure that I can’t give you right now if we remain here while you finish out your last year of school. You’ve seen what's happened to your mother…’

Patsy was actually stunned that she could feel tears prick at her eyes again at the thought of her mother. The woman so distraught by Emma's death that she nearly drank herself to the same fate. She was admitted one night not long after the funeral with alcohol poisoning, resulting in her extended stay at some clinic out in the country to heal. 

‘I’ll not have that happen to you,’ Charles went on, rising from his place on the bed with a newfound determination. ‘Now get packing. You’ve got a train to catch in the morning.’ 

* * *

‘Mr. Willows will be picking you up at the station there Patsy,’ Charles said, his voice low as he straightened his tie. ‘He’ll drive you the rest of the way to the school and you’ll be all set. I’ve arranged a meeting for you with the headmistress when you arrive.’ 

Patsy glowered and remained silent. To her surprise, however, Charles leaned forward and gave her one quick, dry kiss on the forehead. 

It was scratchy with his mustache, and all around uncomfortable and rather foreign to her. Pasy wasn’t used to her father showing any kind of affection towards her whatsoever. He had been nothing more  substantial than a presence in her life up until then, someone who appeared during major holidays and some birthdays. He had been so wrapped up in his work and building up his business during her  formative  years that Patsy had long foregone any hope that her father would ever appear by her side when she needed him most. 

Even now, his affection was feeble at best. It was all too little too late. 

He turned and walked away as the  tannoy  overhead made the last call for boarding. Patsy listlessly entered the  carriage  and sat down, unable to feel… well, anything. She felt completely powerless to do anything that might change her circumstances, and quite honestly she had given up trying. She was so tired of feeling the way she did, so tired of crying. 

It didn’t help that the playground the train passed before moving underground reminded her of the courts in which she and Leihah had met back in February. It reminded her of the woman's long brown hair and smile, those cute dimples and enchanting laugh. Patsy knew she could have probably loved the woman if given the chance, but she was never given the opportunity. Leilah had gone to Tel Aviv to make a better life for herself, and Patsy, well, she was just off to the countryside because her father didn’t know what else to do with her. She would be completely alone, taken away from everything she ever knew and loved, and she felt so utterly helpless and alone and scared. 

Thinking it wasn't possible she could cry any more, Patsy surprised herself. She brought the collar of her hoodie up around her face and silently cried as the train clacked along the tracks and swayed, taking her out of the city she had come to know as home. 

Some hours later, she arrived at her stop. She met this Willows fellow. She let him put her into the back of some large expensive black car and drive away. 

Patsy only removed her headphones when Willows stopped the car. She had noted their arrival when they drove through a set of iron gates, down a long winding road through some  woodland and finally coming to a large building. 

Willows opened the door like a good  chauffeur  and Patsy stepped out, taking a look around. The school looked to be  comprised  of three  wings , two on the ends and one in the middle with a bell tower. A chapel stood to one side of the courtyard she found herself in now, athletic fields and tennis courts to the other . Other students ran around in their mauve blazers either greeting old chums or enthusiastically showing their parents around. 

Patsy didn’t care at all what she might have looked like in that moment, wearing her hoodie and ripped jeans. She didn’t want to be there. She didn’t want to make friends. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. 

She turned her head when the sound of laughter close by caught her attention. Her eyes landed on one family who seemed to be there to set their daughter off for the term. All smiles and hugs and kisses and laughter. Patsy wondered why she couldn’t have all that. She wondered what she had done wrong in a past life, somewhere, anywhere, to deserve the loss and heartbreak she had suffered. She scowled, clenching her fists and suddenly feeling very angry. 

Why did  _ this  _ girl get to have a happy family? A sibling who was healthy and alive? A mum and dad who were present and proud of her, not caring what she looked like? Probably didn’t care what kind of grades she got or who she associated with. 

What was so wrong with her that she couldn't have these basic things? 

The  girl’s smile dropped  when she locked eyes with Patsy, and Patsy knew she was scowling but she didn’t care. She hardly cared about anything anymore. 

‘Miss. Mount.’  Came a voice. 

Patsy turned her head to see a mousy looking woman standing there in a sharp suit and heels. 

‘Miss Mount. I’m Jane Sutton,  headteacher . Your father has been in contact with me regarding your… situation. If you’ll grab your bags and follow me, our counsellor is waiting for you in my office. You’ll have a standing appointment with her this term-’ 

Patsy tuned her out as the woman turned and began to walk back towards the school. She sent another glance towards the family standing there taking photos, and noticed the  girl  in uniform looked back at her, terrified. 

Good, Patsy thought. The girl needed to know she was hated. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: At age 9 (almost 10) Patsy learns she will be a big sister, and is over the moon happy about it. Emmas birth is the event that sparks her interest in becoming a doctor, particularly one who works with children. She enjoys watching Emma grow and is a large part of her life. When Emma is 4 and Patsy is 14 they learn Emma has leukemia. She undergoes chemotherapy for 2 years before the doctors suggest stopping treatments, as they are no longer working. Emma passes away some months later at age 6, not having quite made it to 7. Margaret, their mother, nearly drinks herself to death in her grief and is sent to a rehabilitation clinic to recover. Charles, their father, not knowing what else to do with Patsy, sends her away to school. Patsy arriving and laying eyes on Delia for the first time is where the chapter ends, watching Delia with her happy family and feeling jealous and hating this girl she does not yet know, wondering why she can't have that too. 
> 
> In the midst of all this, Patsy has her first romance with the local librarian, who in the end is unable to stay in Patsy's life. Not to add onto Patsy heartbreak but, I figured, why not. 
> 
> Better times to come ahead. Patsy and Delia head to the beach with the gang and figure their shit out. I won't keep you waiting as long with the next chapter because I feel like we need a little silliness to lighten up this fic. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	15. Well I Wonder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gasping - dying - but somehow still alive  
> This is the final stand of all I am  
> Please keep me in mind  
> Well I wonder  
> Well I wonder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter was a bit much. You have a bit more angst to look forward to, but at least the backdrop is the gorgeous beaches of Woolacombe. There will be sun, surf, and sexual tension. Enjoy!

The sun had barely risen when Valerie burst into Delia’s room. 

The woman whistled loudly through her teeth and opened the blinds, much to Delia’s annoyance. 

‘Righty-o, time to get up, chop chop,’ Valerie clapped her hands as Delia grumbled and threw a pillow over her head. God, she fucking hated morning people. 

‘I told you I’m not going,’ she grumbled. 

‘Yes you are,’ Valerie replied and whipped the covers off the bed. 

Delia sat up at once, ‘Hey!’

‘We’ve gone over this,’ Valerie went on, opening the door to Delia’s closet. ‘I don’t know what’s going on with you-’ 

‘You never asked.’ 

‘Lies! I’ve asked loads of times but you always say it’s nothing.’ 

‘It is nothing,’ Delia fibbed. 

‘-but you’ve been a right grump the last two weeks, and a trip to the beach is just what you need to help you feel cheery again.’ 

Delia let out an exasperated sigh, laying down and throwing a pillow over her face again. ‘Why can’t I use my holiday to stay here and just lay in bed for a few days, hmm?’ 

Valerie threw down a suitcase on the bed, narrowly missing Delia’s feet. ‘Because I won’t allow it.’ 

‘It’s a perfectly adequate way to spend a holiday!’ Delia shouted into her pillow. 

‘So is going to the beach! With your friends! Who all want you to be there!’

‘I’m not so sure about that,’ Delia mumbled under her breath. It went unheard by Valerie. 

‘Come on now, pack up. Trixie and the others will be here any moment and we’re going to meet them down stairs.’ 

Delia made no attempt to move, instead wanting to sulk for another moment under her pillows. 

She was not at all looking forward to spending an extended holiday weekend with _anyone_ , especially if Patsy was included in that group of people. 

It had been about two weeks since Patsy made her late night visit. Since she had told her about what happened to her sister and family, about the true reasons as to why she had bullied her all those years ago. 

Delia had just felt terrible, not only for what Patsy had been through, but also how she had treated her up until now. She felt dreadful about her behavior, how she barged into her home and screamed at her, demanding answers. 

Well, she had them _now_ , didn’t she, Delia thought bitterly. She finally had the closure that she needed. She could move on from being the victim of Patsy’s bullying way back when, but at what cost? Had it really been worth it to make Patsy dredge up all those horrible experiences? 

Every day since then, all Delia could see was the sadness behind Patsy’s eyes, even though the woman was cordial and all smiles when engaging with her. Delia wondered if that sadness had been there all along, but she was only just noticing it, knowing now all the horrible things Patsy had had to live through. When running into her at the clinic, Delia tried her best to be kind to Patsy, more friendly, but it seemed to make the woman just want to pull away more from her. Still no Sundays at the farmers market or gardening or sharing any meals together. 

It made Delia think that the mere sight of her brought back all those painful memories for Patsy, simply because they happened to cross paths at that horrible time in Patsy's life. It wouldn’t surprise her if this were true, and if so, it was no wonder she was avoiding her, pushing her away. 

They couldn’t be the friends Patsy had wanted them to become when she arrived in the spring, and it was entirely Delia’s fault. 

Perhaps Patsy also regretted saying anything at all, thinking now that Delia felt sorry for her. 

But Delia _didn’t_ feel sorry for her. If anything, she admired her strength for living through all that heartache and coming out of it the person she was today. 

Delia couldn’t explain it. She felt as if everything she had known, everything she had remembered, the meaning behind it all, had done a 180 in her mind. Nothing was as she remembered it and if anything, she felt the drive and desire to fix it all, even if it might have been the last thing Patsy would want. 

She was constantly overwhelmed with the need to comfort Patsy. Patsy was all she could think about. She wanted to hold her and tell her things she had never felt the urge or desire to say out loud to anyone ever before. 

I don’t want you to feel lonely ever again. 

I want to protect you. 

I see you. 

I love… 

Delia stopped herself, finding the idea absolutely absurd, yet heartbreaking at the same time, knowing it was not, nor would ever be, reciprocal. 

‘Let’s start with the important things, hmm?’ Valerie opened the top drawer of Delia’s dresser, breaking the brunette from her thoughts. ‘Swimming cossie? Socks? Knickers?’ 

Delia sat up immediately and harshly wiped a tear away from her eye before Valerie could see. ‘I can pack my own knickers, thank you very much!’

‘Well get to it then!’ Valerie twirled around and backed out of the room. ‘And don’t forget your workout stuff! Trixie promised some sunrise beach yoga.’

Delia narrowed her eyes suspiciously as Valerie gave a cheeky grin. 

‘I’ll meet you in the kitchen!’ 

Valerie slammed the bedroom door shut, and begrudgingly, Delia rose and began to pack her things. 

Just as the two exited their building a blue car pulled up to the curb. Delia needed to blink and rub the sleep out of her eyes to make out that it was, indeed, Barbara behind the wheel as Trixie, Lucille, and even Patsy all exited the small car. 

‘Oh no,’ Delia groaned. 

‘You’ve got to be joking. _This_ is Phyllis’ car?!’ Valerie said. 

Delia was reminded of the evening before when the last patient had been sent home from the clinic and the girls were all gathered in the breakroom, helping to clear out before they took off for the weekend. 

Delia had been tossing old things from the fridge, amused by Phyllis teasingly dangling the keys to her holiday cottage just above Trixie’s open hand. She tried not to notice Patsy fixing herself a cup of tea next to her. 

‘Now I know this isn’t written in the leasing contract,’ Phyllis remarked, ‘but I can only assume you’d adhere to a ‘Lady’s Agreement’ that there will be _no_ hanky panky with the opposite sex at my cottage?’

Trixie suppressed a snort as she looked over her shoulder to the other women in the break room. To Delia’s knowledge, she was surrounded by a bunch of queers and one asexual. 

Valerie and Lucille tried not to look at one another to avoid bursting out into giggles. 

‘I don’t think you’ll have to worry about any of that with this lot,’ Trixie replied. 'Strictly a girl's weekend.'

Phyllis raised a curious eyebrow but dropped the keys into Trixie’s anxiously awaiting hand. The blonde clenched her fist like she was holding something precious and grinned. 

‘So,’ Patsy began casually, sitting down with the rest at the table and blew on her tea. ‘How are we getting there?’ 

The group looked expectantly to Trixie, who blinked. ‘Oh, well I was thinking we could borrow your car, Patsy, if that's alright?’

 _‘My_ car?’ Patsy replied, raising a curious eyebrow. 

‘Mmhmm,’ Trixie nodded, smiling hopefully.

Patsy smirked. ‘I don’t have a car.’ 

Trixie’s expression went blank, her shoulders slumping. 

‘You don't have a car?’ 

‘Why would I have a car?’

‘I thought you had a car!’

‘Nope.’ 

‘Why don’t you have a car?’

‘Because I don’t need one?’ 

Everyone's eyes were ping ponging between the two women throughout the terse exchange. Patsy looked expectantly at Trixie as she sipped her tea, the blonde looking as if she were working hard to formulate a response.

‘Wh-wh-wh-What was that _thing_ I saw parked in the alley at your house? At the party back in July?’ 

Patsy raised an eyebrow. ‘You mean the pickup truck?’ 

‘Yeah!’ 

‘That’s not my truck.’

‘Whose truck is it then?’ 

‘That’ll be Fred’s,’ Patsy replied as she sipped her tea. ‘He’s Julienne’s guy, comes round to do their gardening and some maintenance round their house every so often.’ Patsy put down her tea and leaned back in her chair. ‘But, Trix, even if it was my truck, did you actually think we would pack the six of us into a _pickup_ truck and drive all the way out to Devon?’ 

Trixie gave a noncommittal shrug. ‘I figured at least Valerie and Delia would enjoy riding in the back.’

Delia slammed the refrigerator door shut and scoffed. ‘What are we, dogs?!’ 

‘Well can we rent something?’ Barbara offered. ‘Maybe a people-carrier?’

‘Who is going to rent us a people-carrier?’ Trixie asked, looking panicked as she checked her watch. ‘I was hoping to leave first thing tomorrow and it’s almost 5! Every rental place will be closed by now.’ 

‘Well who do we know that has a car?’ Lucille asked. 

‘Fred?’ Trixie looked to Patsy hopefully. 

‘A pickup is _still_ not a good idea, Trixie!’ Patsy replied, exasperated. 

The rest of the women looked around the room until slowly, all eyes landed on Phyllis, who did not look at all amused. 

Trixie flashed a brilliant smile as she took a step towards the woman. 

‘Phyllis. Sweetie,’ Trixie opened her mouth and looked up, looking as if she were choosing her words carefully. ‘Would you happen to be using your car this weekend?’ 

Phyllis rolled her eyes hard to the ceiling before moving to pull her ring of keys out of her pocket. 

Now, finally able to look at the thing, Delia was starting to think the pickup truck would have been a better idea. 

‘Morning ladies!’ Trixie stretched as she patted the roof of the modest Ford Focus. ‘Your chariot awaits!’ 

‘Morning love,’ Lucille approached Valerie with a sweet kiss on the lips that made Delia scowl bitterly. ‘I’ll take your bag for you.’ 

‘You sure? Doesn’t look like much more room in the boot for our stuff,’ Valerie tisked, ‘is there even going to be any room for the two of us in there?’ 

‘I mean, it’ll be rather snug but we can manage.’ 

‘So what are the seating arrangements then?’ Valerie asked, looking to Trixie. 

‘Well, Barbara’s going to drive the first leg of the trip… erm, speaking of, anyone else have a license?’ 

Delia was the only one to raise her hand. 

‘Pats, you don’t have a driver's license?’ Valerie asked surprised. ‘Thought all Americans drove.’

‘Again, Val,’ Patsy replied sounding bored. Delia reckoned she was just tired because it was barely 7am, but more likely because this was the umpteenth time she had to explain to Val that she really was English. ‘Not American. Besides, I lived in cities with… some semblance of public transit. When that wasn’t available there was always a friend with a car, or you know, Uber.’ 

‘Well,’ Trixie interjected, ‘Delia since you’re the only other person with a license, you can drive the second leg-'

‘Splendid,’ Delia grunted. 

‘-Which means you have to sit in the back for the first half.’

‘What?!’ Delia felt awake now. ‘That’s bullshit!’

‘It’s not going to be fair if you sit up front the whole way, is it sweetie?’ Trixie replied. 

‘So who is going to take the front seat now, then?’ Lucille asked. 

‘It _should_ be me since I’m the smallest one here,’ Delia argued, fighting for a chance to sit as far away as she possibly could from Patsy, who currently hung back and did not look like she wanted to take any part of this conversation. ‘I can at least pull the seat all the way forward and give you Amazons some legroom.’ 

‘Nice try,’ Trixie grinned and wagged her finger, ‘I orchestrated this trip so I’m sitting up front with Babs.’ 

‘You're the one who buggered up this whole car mess! ‘ Valerie replied, ‘You should be tied to the roof!’ 

‘Just let her be,’ Lucille pleaded, interlocking her fingers with Valerie’s, ‘besides, I want to sit next to you in the back.’ 

Delia wanted to vomit. If there was one thing worse than the fact she would be sitting next to Patsy for at least the next three hours, it was that she would be also squished next to a newly in love couple who couldn’t seem to keep their hands off one another. 

‘Dunno chick, think you might need to sit on my lap if the four of us are going to fit back there.’ 

‘Oh,’ Lucille hesitated, looking uncertain. 

‘What?’ 

‘Erm, well no offense, Val, but you're a bit boney.’ 

Valerie gave a sigh and turned to Patsy. ‘Well mate, looks like you’re just going to have to sit on Delia’s lap.’ 

Delia could practically feel the steam shoot from her ears as Patsy turned red in the face. 

‘That’s it,’ Delia grabbed her suitcase and turned back towards her building. ‘I’m not bloody coming!’

Several car horns blared and everyone turned to look at Barbara who was waving awkwardly, ‘Um, guys? Can we hurry this up a bit? I’m kind of blocking the way here…’ 

‘Oh, turn your hazards on, woman!’ Trixie shouted, then whirled back around to Valerie, pointing a stern finger in Delia’s direction. ‘Get her!’ 

‘OK, you two in the car,’ Valerie said to Patsy and Lucille, before running after her flatmate, ‘Delia!’ 

Valerie dashed ahead of the smaller woman before she had the chance to walk through the double doors into their building. 

‘Val, seriously, this is ridiculous,’ Delia seethed as she tried to weave past the taller woman, but Valerie blocked her every which way. 

‘Delia listen to me,’ Valerie said when Delia finally halted, ‘we want you to come with us, OK? I don’t know what’s been going on with you the last few weeks, but I hate seeing you like this.’

Delia pursed her lips, still feeling rather uncertain. 

‘Just feel like a weekend away with your mates might help with… I don't know, whatever it is you’re going through? It’s fine if you don’t feel like talking about it, but I mean, how often do we get a weekend away like this, hmm? Just… come be with us, Deels.’ 

‘Yeah, Delia please, it won’t be any fun without you there!’ Trixie pleaded from the car. 

Delia was still not convinced. 

‘Patsy wants you to come, right?’ Valerie said, looking to the redhead, ‘Right Pats? You want her to come?’ 

Delia turned to look at Patsy, who had already made her way to the other side of the car, standing by the open door. She looked from side to side nervously, opening and closing her mouth, looking uncertain as to how to answer. 

But Delia already knew. Patsy didn’t want her there, and if that was the case then there was no point in joining them all. 

‘Nope!’ she said, pushing forward again. ‘No. Move.’ 

‘Grab her bag, Trix!’ Valerie yelled. 

Delia shouted as she was scooped off her feet and thrown over Valerie's shoulder. For someone who looked like she would blow over in a gust of wind, Delia had to admit Valerie was strong. 

She was reminded just then the woman _did_ spend some time in the army. 

Delia’s head was a bit discombobulated as she was shoved hastily into the back of the car. By the time she was able to sit upright, she could make out the sounds of three car doors slamming shut and the ominous _'thunk'_ of all the doors locking with the click of a button. She found herself leaning against Patsy, bum in Patsy's lap, one leg draped over Patsy’s leg and the other over Valerie’s knee. She turned around to see Patsy looking highly apologetic. 

Delia whirled back around and glared at Valerie and Trixie. ‘This is basically kidnapping!’ 

‘Oh Delia, will you lighten up?' Valerie rolled her eyes and patted Delia’s knee. 'We’re all just trying to have a good time here.’ 

Delia crossed her arms over her chest and glowered. ‘Just so everyone is aware this is NOT MY IDEA OF A GOOD TIME!’ she shouted. 

‘Here, sweetie, have a muffin,’ Trixie said, turning around from the passenger's seat and extending a white paper bag to Delia. ‘I’ll give you first pick of the lot. There's chocolate and cranberry in there,’ she finished, as if that would be enough to tempt her. 

‘Seatbelts, everyone!’ Barbara said as she finally pulled off onto the road, the incessant honking from other perturbed drivers stopped. 

‘Oh, Pats,’ Trixie said, ‘since Delia doesn’t have a seatbelt could you just… you know…’ she waved her hand and wiggled her fingers. 

Delia narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Trixie, quickly looking to the other occupants in the car and noting that everyone was looking at her rather expectantly. 

‘Could I what?’ Patsy asked, sounding almost frightened. 

‘Just wrap your arms around her and hold on.’ Trixie shrugged indifferently. 

Delia felt a hot blush crawl up her neck to the tips of her ears. She was glad at the very least that Patsy couldn't see her face right now. 

‘Seriously?’ Patsy asked. 

Barbara drove over a speed bump and Delia’s head hit the top of the car. 

‘Ow!’ the brunette hissed. 

‘As tight as you can!’ Trixie grinned. 

‘Safety first!’ Barbara said with a pointed finger in the air. 

'This all feels highly illegal,' Patsy mumbled. 

The redhead nearly knocked the breath out of Delia with how tight she grabbed onto her as Barbara drove over another speed bump. 

'Barbara the point of speed bumps is for you to slow down!' Delia petulantly reached up and flicked the woman's ear. 

'Hey!' Barbara swatted behind her. 'No harassing the driver!' 

'Delia! Take a muffin, would you?' Trixie thrusted the bag in Delia's face. 

Delia snatched the bag of muffins from Trixie’s grasp with a swift hand. 

‘I’m taking the lot,’ Delia seethed. 

Valerie leaned forward, giving a disappointed ‘Aww!’ 

‘No muffins for anyone, especially _you_!’ Delia glared at her flatmate. ‘Kidnapper.’ 

She could hear Patsy sigh helplessly against her. 

‘I’ll make an exception for you since you didn’t ask for this either,’ Delia held the bag open for Patsy to peek in. ‘You may have one muffin.’ 

Shyly, Patsy reached in and took one. ‘Thanks.’ 

Delia turned back around and fished out the cranberry muffin, chomping down angrily as she continued to glare at Valerie and the back of Trixie’s head, trying very hard to ignore the feeling of Patsy’s grip around her waist as the woman nibbled quietly on her blueberry muffin behind her. 

* * *

'Well. This was certainly worth the drive.'

Valerie gave a whistle as she surveyed the area, hand on her hip as she looked past the modest bungalow onto the landscape beyond it. The property was perched up on a hill with a dirt path beside it, leading down to the beach itself, which was dotted with holiday-makers but not too crowded. The house itself was rather attractive; a cozy looking blue bungalow with potted plants and brightly painted shutters. The village was just a stone's throw away, which appealed to Delia as she didn’t fancy getting back in the car again so long as she could help it. 

The rest of the women slowly emerged from the car and stretched their legs, some reaching for the sky and others cracking the stiff joints in their necks, needing to move after being cooped up half a day.

'Right.’ Trixie gave a resounding clap of her hands. ‘How about we settle in and head to the beach! Still plenty of daylight left!' 

From the driver's seat, Delia popped the boot and the others began to unload their things.

'What about lunch?' Barbara asked as Trixie handed her a rucksack. 'I'm absolutely famished.'

'I predicted this would happen, so Pats here was kind enough to pack us some sandwiches this morning so we could head right to the beach!' Trixie patted the little coolbag sitting on top of her suitcase and grinned, 'I've also got some crisps and drinks somewhere…' 

'Oh, brilliant,’ Valerie nodded in approval. ‘I've heard loads about your sandwiches Pats. Used to make them all the time for Delia didn't you?' 

Patsy laughed awkwardly, 'Ha, ah, yeah guess I did.'

Delia decided not to comment, and was handed her bag and some camping chairs that she was made to carry into the house. She hitched everything over her shoulders and made her way to the entrance, feeling very much like a pack mule. 

When everyone else had an armful of luggage and other random beach stuff, Trixie unlocked the door and opened it. Several pairs of curious eyes looked over her shoulders and into the dark house. 

There was a hallway immediately upon entering. The first door on the left was a bedroom, and another on the right. Further down the hall on the right was a bathroom with a tub and plenty of counter space, then the place opened up with a kitchen on the left, dining table, lounge space on the right, complete with a comfortable looking sofa, recliner, television, and a bookcase of board games and puzzles. The back wall had a set of glass doors leading to a conservatory, and beyond that was a stunning view of the beach and ocean. 

Trixie and Barbara entered first, heading towards the kitchen and dropping their bags in the lounge, while the others meandered near the entrance. 

‘This must be the master,’ Lucille remarked, looking in the first door on the left. ‘Ooh, look, has its own bathroom, too!’ 

'Ooh, Lou and I will take this room!' Valerie called out. 

Valerie barely took one step in the room before Trixie hustled back and snatched her by the collar of her shirt.

'Ack! Hey!' 

'You two will be taking the other room across the hall!' Trixie commanded. 

'What? Come on!' 

'Scoot your boot!' She patted Valerie's hip towards the other room. 'You two,’ she pointed to Delia and Patsy, ‘will be in here.'

Delia sighed and could almost feel Patsy physically tense beside her.

'But… Where are you and Barbara going to sleep?' Patsy asked feebly. 

'Sofa bed!' Trixie grinned. 'I can't fall asleep without the television on.'

'Me neither.' Barbara nodded, 'Probably best we hunker down in the lounge.'

'Ooh this will be exciting,' Trixie gushed. 'Like an extended sleepover.'

'This reminds me of all the caravan holidays I took as a kid. Ooh, maybe we can make a pillow fort from the sofa cushions!' 

'Ah, that sounds fantastic!' 

Barbara and Trixie interlocked hands, excitedly jumping up and down and giggling as they gushed about all the things they wanted to do. 

Delia wondered if her friends were really 12. 

She turned and pushed opened the door to the bedroom she and Patsy would share, and stopped midway when there was one glaring issue with their arrangement. 

And only one. 

'Where's yours?' 

Delia looked over her shoulder to see Patsy smiling feebly, though the smirk was quickly wiped from her face when she got a decent look at Delia's expression. 

'Sorry,' she said, looking panicked. 'Joke. It was a joke.' 

‘This whole trip is a joke,’ Delia grumbled, throwing her suitcase down on the one bed that they would have to share. 

* * *

Delia didn’t think she could get any more miserable during this trip. Her mood had been sour before spending much of the ride to Woolacombe in Patsy’s lap, and continued to deteriorate upon being made to share a room _and_ a bed with her, but now… _now_ she realized she would have to spend the next several days suffering, in absolute fucking anguish, sitting there under the hot sun forced _against her will_ to observe Patsy for most of the day in a skimpy green bikini! 

How was it possible for someone to look so effortlessly cool and sexy?! She was just… just _sitting_ there wearing sunglasses and sipping a diet coke! 

How was this her life?! What did she do to deser-

‘Oh, right,’ Delia mumbled into her bottle of bud. She sighed and took a swig, wishing this were little more than a drop of alcohol in a bit of wheaty water. She wanted much more alcohol. 

She tried to focus on the other conversations that were going on between her friends as they all sat in a horseshoe shape in their chairs around the cooler of food and drinks and their bags. She had little choice but to notice what everyone wore. Trixie was appropriately dressed in a piece of red string that resembled a bikini. Next to her was Barbara who wore a more modest one piece. Lucille wore something cute, a white bikini with little frills and blue polka dots, and Valerie looked entirely herself in some thrown together ensemble of a sports bra and some boys trunks. Everyone looked splendid in their sunglasses or hats, lounging casually in their chairs while reading from a magazine or some filthy beach read or just chatting idly. 

Delia wanted to remain in her folding chair, feeling very self conscious in her boring black bikini. She wished she could dig herself into the sand like she could her toes, and hide her body away from the sight of the others. One part of her brain knew that thinking of herself this way was wrong. She was body positive when it came to _other_ people. All bodies are good bodies! Or so she told others anyway, especially the teenagers who would come into the clinic feeling awkward and ashamed of themselves for being too skinny or overweight. She wished she could apply the same type of positive thinking to herself, but it was hard when she was sitting there amongst a bunch of _models_ , apparently, and she was the only one with visible stretch marks! 

‘Alright, I need a bit of a warmup before I head in for a swim,’ Valerie said, rising from her chair. She made her way towards one of the bags and withdrew a volleyball from a tote. ‘Lou, you up for a bit of volleyball?’ 

‘I’m fine with my book,’ Lucille replied, licking her finger and turning a page in her worn paperback. 

‘Trix?’ Valerie asked hopefully. 

Trixie didn’t reply, instead merely bringing her copy of Cosmo up over her face to obscure her view. 

Valerie twirled the ball around in her hands, looking around. ‘Anyone?’

‘I’ll play,’ Barbara said, moving to get up from her seat. 

Val sighed. ‘Anyone else?’ 

‘Val!’ Delia chastised. She knew Barbara wasn’t the best with sports but that didn't mean Valerie couldn't include her in tossing a bloody ball around. 

‘Well come on then! Let’s get a game going!’ she urged Delia, who begrudgingly obliged. ‘Pats, you’re the only one left. Come on, up you get.’ 

‘I’m busy.’ Patsy shrugged, not at all looking interested as she sipped her drink. 

‘No you’re not, come on. Don't make me beg.’ 

Patsy gave a sigh and rose from her seat, pulling her hair back in a ponytail. 

The four of them moved a little back away from the surf, and Valerie drew a long line in the sand with her foot. 

‘Right, Pats, why don't you and I take this side and the girls can take that side.’ 

‘Wait, what are we doing?’ Barbara looked from Valerie to Delia, panicked. ‘How do we…’ 

‘Babs, just toss the ball in the air and bounce it off your wrist like this.’ Valerie gave the woman a little tutorial, then handed the ball off to Barbara for a try. She promptly tossed the ball into the air, swung her wrist, hitting nothing, and the ball fell to the sand. 

‘We’re not playing for points, right?’ Deila asked quickly.

Valerie tisked and rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, I suppose not. This time.’ 

She scooped up the ball and urged Barbara to try again. This time Barbara was able to bounce the ball off her wrist as intended, and Delia gave a little sigh of relief. 

A game of sorts ensued, even though much of the time was spent with Valerie and Delia punting the ball back and forth to one another. Delia was mostly trying to keep Barbara from swinging and missing every time, while Patsy didn’t seem interested at all in playing and would just toss the ball to Valerie. As they went on, however, Delia grew used to the uneven sand beneath her feet and more comfortable with the feeling of the ball bouncing off her wrist. She could sense Valerie was becoming more competitive too, and in turn it made Delia want to step up her game a bit. 

Once again, Patsy punted the ball to Valerie who bounced it hard off her wrist. The ball arched high into the air and was headed right for Barbara. 

‘Smack it, Babs!’ 

Barbara ducked her head and reached up, screaming ‘Aah!’ as the ball bounced off her hand. 

Anticipating the trajectory, Delia took a step forward and then dove for the ball, her competitive spirit getting the better of her as she punted the ball back over the line, but eating a faceful of sand in the process. 

She managed to look up just in time to see Valerie smack the ball back, hitting the ground hard on her and Barbara's side as the woman was too nervous to get under it and hit it back. 

‘Oh, Delia, are you alright?’ Barbara asked, kneeling down next to her. 

‘I’m fine, Babs, it’s ok,’ she replied, spitting some sand out of her mouth, ‘just go and get the ball and try again.’ 

Barbara did as instructed, and Delia wiped the sand from her face and chest, rising to her knees as she quickly moved to adjust her breasts to sit comfortably in her bikini top once more. 

Barbara spiked the ball back over the line properly this time, and Delia took a moment to fidget with the straps of her top. She looked up just in time to see Patsy looking right at her, seeming quite distracted and pink in the cheeks, before the volleyball came down and landed square on her head with a loud _smack!_

Valerie broke out into an uproarious laughter as Patsy shook her head, gathering her bearings as she picked up the ball. 

‘Oh, god, sorry Patsy!’ Barbara shouted, biting her nails anxiously. 

‘Come on now Pats, look alive!’ Valerie said playfully, still unable to contain her laughter. 

‘Uh, sorry, I think I need a break,’ Patsy stated shyly, looking down as she tossed the ball back to Valerie. 

‘Yeah, I think I need to take a dip to get all this sand off,’ Delia remarked, continuing to wipe at the neverending grains that were stuck to her tummy and thighs. 

‘Oh, fine,’ Valerie said, ‘think I’m ready anyway. Come on Deels, race ya!’ 

‘Hey!’ Delia yelled, getting to her feet and running after her to the surf. 

* * *

Fucking _c h r i s t_

Patsy cursed to herself, thinking she wasn't going to make it through the weekend if Delia was going to run around in a bikini like that. 

It was bad enough she was made to sit with the woman on her lap for part of the way here. She had spent an uncomfortable amount of time in the morning so turned on she could barely speak. Having Delia pressed against her, holding her, feeling her warmth and smelling her… she felt like a total creep completely at the mercy of her hormones. 

Speaking of feeling like a creep, Patsy could not take her eyes off Delia’s curves. Even on a typical day she thought she was attractive covered head to toe in her usual clothing, but this was a new kind of torture. Watching the woman run around showing off so much skin was maddening. Her distraction didn't start with Delia brushing all that sand off her chest, but it certainly escalated things. Just the subtle tug of her bikini straps making her breasts bounce made Patsy's mouth water and blood drain from her brain to other parts of her body leaving her incapable of thinking coherently. She was similarly distracted by that gorgeous smile, her cute belly, the curve of her round hips, and her thighs. Fuck did Patsy want to get her hands and mouth all over that woman and let her know all the things she did to her without even trying. 

The blow to the head with the damn volleyball still wasn't enough to shake her arousal. She wasn’t at all embarrassed in the slightest, even with Valerie laughing obnoxiously beside her, thinking she deserved a good smack in the face to remind herself that Delia probably wouldn’t appreciate her thinking of her like that.

Still. She had a hard time remembering any point in her life she desired another woman this much, another time where her stupid barbaric lizard brain kicked into overdrive and made her think of things that would make a porn star blush. 

Speaking of… The bed. God, the fucking bed! She couldn't trust herself to share a bed with Delia. Not tonight at least. She didn't know what she was going to do. Sleep on the floor? That would look weird. Less weird than sleeping in the car which might be a better option, but still. 

She found the slightest bit of relief when there was a consensus in the group to pack it up and head back to the house for the night. Everyone had a shower and changed and split into two groups as they walked into the village. Trixie, Barbara and Delia went to buy enough food to hold them all over for the next few days, while she, Valerie, and Lucille found the nearest off-license and stocked up on all sorts of booze. 

‘I reckon some beer for the beach and a bunch of vodka and whiskey for the evenings.’ 

Lucille raised an eyebrow at her girlfriend. ‘Val how much do you think everyone is going to drink?’

‘Don’t know about you and Pats but I can certainly pack it away, as can Deels.’

‘Really?’ Patsy blinked.

‘Oh sure. She’s small but can hold her drink. What you think, Patsy? Want anything special? Been a minute since I’ve had to mix drinks at the pub but I’m sure I can whip up something fancy.’ 

Patsy couldn’t decide if she wanted to drink to drown her sorrows or hold off on any alcohol for the entirety of the weekend to keep her from doing or saying something stupid. 

No, actually. Who was she kidding. 

‘Better get a bit of everything,’ she mumbled. 

Lucille happily snagged a bottle of Patron tequila off the shelf. ‘Don’t mind if I do!’ 

They managed to meet up with the others, Valerie carrying a large cardboard box with their haul, and discussed dinner options as the six of them headed back to the house. 

Delia and Barbara placed their bags on the kitchen island and Patsy made quick work to put everything away neat and tidy. Trixie, meanwhile, gazed longingly at the row of top shelf liquor Valerie set out on the counter and excused herself to have a cigarette or four. 

‘Isn’t it funny how often you come home from food shopping and immediately order take away?’ Barbara remarked to no one in particular. 

‘Yup,’ Delia replied dismissively as she pulled out her phone, ‘now what do you want on your pizza?’ 

After dinner, everyone seemed content to lounge in front of the television and enjoy a drink or two. Valerie whirled up a batch of frozen margaritas, and a virgin one for Trixie, for the group to enjoy as they all animatedly chatted over some cheesy Friday night movie playing on channel 4. Lucille convinced Barbara to join her for a shot of tequila, and subsequently the woman hiccuped a lot and eventually nodded off on Patsy’s shoulder. 

‘She usually like this?’ Patsy asked. 

‘Oh yeah, total lightweight that one,’ Valerie replied. 

‘She gets really cuddly too when she’s drunk,’ Trixie added, nodding to Barbara just as the woman wrapped herself around Patsy’s arm and nuzzled into her shoulder. ‘See?’

‘You’re nap-trapped!’ Lucille teased. 

‘I don’t blame her. It has been a long day,’ Valerie confessed. She let out a loud yawn and stretched. ‘Speaking of, I think I’m ready to turn in.’ 

‘Good idea,’ Lucille nodded. ‘We should try to get an early start so we can make the most of our time here!’ 

Remembering that she was sitting where Trixie and Barbara would be sleeping, Patsy made an attempt to move, but only found that it made Barbara hold onto her tighter. 

‘Oh, Trix,’ Patsy looked helplessly to the blonde, ‘I can move, it’s just…’ 

‘Don’t you bother,’ Trixie smiled and waved her hand. ‘Since you’re stuck I can make you watch a few episodes of Old Tides with me. Catch you up for the season premier! I’ve tried to get Babs to sit through it but some parts are too violent for her tastes. You don’t mind, do you?’ 

Trixie blinked her big blue eyes at her and Patsy couldn’t find it within her to say no. 

‘Oh, I suppose not,’ she smiled rather bashfully. ‘I’m not that sleepy anyway.’ 

Trixie smiled and took a seat next to Patsy, snuggling up against her other arm as she pointed the remote at the television. 

As the show was selected from some streaming channel and eerie intro music played in the background, Patsy chanced a look at Delia who had been sitting in the recliner beside them. She seemed to be glaring daggers in her direction, but for the life of her she couldn’t figure out if she had done or said anything to piss the woman off. 

All the more reason to avoid sleeping in the same bed with her at all costs. Patsy almost sighed with relief when Delia excused herself to retire for the evening. Patsy finally felt like she could relax a little. 

It all worked out in the end, however, as before the end of the first episode she felt another heavy head droop and hit her shoulder. Trixie had fallen asleep, resting her head on the shoulder opposite the one Barbara was lightly drooling on. 

With the house now dark and quiet, with two warm bodies pressed up against her, Patsy, too, was soon feeling the length of the day. Her breathing began to match her two apparent bed-fellows, and soon, she let her head fall back and her eyes close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you were waiting for pupcake, well... we're getting there. Next chapter to come soon. Thanks for reading.


	16. Well I Wonder - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just another day at the beach.

Patsy awoke the following morning with an incredible warm weight on her chest that, while cozy, was growing increasingly uncomfortable and she was pretty certain whomever was sleeping on top of her was drooling. 

She cracked open an eye and remembered that she was whisked away the day before to Woolacombe with everyone. She could make out the television quietly droning on nearby, and by the soft light peeking through the curtains she deduced that it was still rather early in the morning. 

Patsy moved carefully to peel Barbara off her and lay the woman back down on the sofa without disturbing her too much. She looked over to see Trixie snoozing quite comfortably on the recliner with a blanket over her.

Patsy yawned and stretched as she tiptoed towards the room she and Delia were supposed to share. She wouldn’t take the chance of disturbing Delia at this hour, but all her things were in there and she really wanted to try and sneak in a shower before the others woke. 

To her surprise, Delia was already awake and dressed, sitting on the bed and lacing up her trainers. 

Well, _partially_ dressed in a sports bra and shorts. 

'Oh, hey,' Patsy stopped in her tracks and looked away shyly. 'Sorry, thought you would still be sleeping. Just came in to grab a few things-’ 

'Patsy this is your room too,' Delia said pointedly. 

'I know but I want to respect your privacy.'

Patsy didn't know if it was nerves or the crick in her neck, but she reached across herself and pressed down on a pain nagging her between her neck and shoulder, sighing. 

'Alright?' Delia asked. 

'Oh, yeah. Must have slept on it funny,’ she remarked with a smirk. ‘Strange to think in my 20s I could have slept on rocks and woken up fresh as a daisy. Now, not so much.' 

Delia rose from the bed and unfurled a t-shirt from her luggage. 'You could have slept here last night.' 

'Um, yeah… it's just, I was trapped underneath Barbara anyway. Trixie fell asleep on me watching TV, so I didn’t figure it was worth disturbing them.’

Patsy looked up and met Delia's eyes. The look on her face suggested she thought Patsy was full of shit. 

Patsy couldn't argue with her there. 

'Well I'm just saying you can sleep here,’ Deila replied as she slipped on her t-shirt. ‘I can take the sofa tonight if… you find it too awkward.'

'No I… Delia you can have the bed. I don't mind.'

‘The whole weekend?’ Delia asked, an eyebrow quirked. ‘Then where will you sleep the next two nights? Surely not the sofa? Or the floor?'

Delia waited for Patsy to say something, but Patsy couldn’t think of anything to say. She felt caught between a rock and a hard place, wanting to avoid conflict, not wanting to do or say anything that could possibly upset Delia more than she already seemed to be. 

Though _not_ saying anything seemed to be precisely what was making Delia upset. 

‘Patsy just…’ Delia brought a finger to the spot between her eyes, looking as if she were on the cusp of a headache, ‘I mean if you want to switch with Barbara or something….'

‘No, I.. It’s not-’

‘Then just say you'll sleep in the bloody bed, Patsy.’ 

Not knowing what else to do or say, Patsy clamped her mouth shut, and simply nodded. 

This seemed to be the wrong thing to do. Patsy felt quite confused as the colour drained from Delia's face, and the woman looked as if she were going to cry. 

A sinking, unsettling feeling gathered in the pit of Patsy's stomach as she watched Delia breeze past and shut the door behind her. 

Patsy stood there alone in the deafening silence of the bedroom, thinking that perhaps she had pushed this too far. 

Ever since she’d showed up at Delia’s flat in the middle of the night to tell her about her traumatic past, she had only felt the desire to be closer to the woman grow more intense with each passing day. 

But she couldn’t. Any time she felt the urge to reach out to her, to speak to her, she stopped herself. Every second she spent in Delia’s company was so, so painful, because she couldn't… just _couldn’t_ tell her how she was really feeling. 

She couldn't tell her she had fallen in love with her. 

Patsy was scared, too. There were so few people in her life who truly knew her, the good parts and bad, and she didn't want to confuse Delia’s kindness for romantic interest. She didn't want to make the mistake of confessing to Delia and having her feelings rebuffed, only adding onto the pain she felt, or worse yet, destroying any chance of a friendship they could have had. 

The only way Patsy was able to cope with anything, any hardship, was to push people away, keep them at arms length, and sort it out herself. Patsy knew she wasn’t going to get what she wanted from Delia, she knew Delia didn’t have feelings for her, and she needed the physical and emotional space from her. She needed that time to get over her romantic feelings for the woman. 

Of course that was exceedingly challenging at the moment since they’d practically been living in each other’s pockets for the past day. With three more to go, no less. 

Delia wasn't just some crush though. She wasn’t some fleeting acquaintance in Patsy’s life that would leave as quickly as she’d arrived. Delia was someone with whom Patsy had a… complicated past. However brief of a moment in time they had known one another, their life stories were linked. Patsy had made an impact on Delia’s life back then and now, Delia was the one who was making an impact on Patsy in a way she would remember for the rest of her days. 

Delia was someone who Patsy had _let in_. 

But she still had to hold back. Had to keep her at arms length and not be completely open with her, and it was so, _so_ painful. She physically ached whenever Delia was near. She so wished she could be completely open with her, tell her how she felt, wished she could hold her and tell her she loved her. 

But she couldn’t. And this was the very behaviour that seemed to be upsetting Delia. 

Patsy knew she would need to go against her own instincts and actually talk to Delia. She would need to be the one to reach out and try to get to the bottom of whatever was going on with her. 

Patsy needed to at least try to salvage whatever kind of relationship they might have, even if it was nothing like the relationship she wanted it to be. 

She loved Delia. She needed to be there for her. 

* * *

'Can we talk?'

Delia blinked, her expression softening. Patsy could see her posture relaxing as the simple three word question resonated with her. 

Patsy wiped the sweat from her brow, catching her breath, thinking that she would catch up to Delia in the village, but Delia was faster than she anticipated, and instead she met the woman on her way back. Delia apparently had already stopped into a little shop and now carried a tote filled with fresh fruit and pastries for everyone back at the house.

Now, they stood alone on the dirt and gravel road, grass and flowers on either side of them with the scent of salt water in the air, the buildings of the village just behind Delia. 

Patsy raked her fingers through her hair, unsure of where to start, but figured she may as well start where they left off. 

'I just want you to know that I don't care about the bloody bed,' Patsy said, waving her hand across her as if to clear that slate. 

Delia sighed, 'Um, yeah I didn’t mean to be weird about it.'

'It’s not a big deal.'

'I know but if you truly don't want-'

Patsy shook her head. 'Its fine.’

'I know but don't…’ Delia trailed off, looking away. 

Patsy blinked, curious to know the rest of Delia’s sentence. 'Don't what?' 

'Don't let me talk to you like that, ok?'

Patsy’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. 'Like what?' 

'Just… don't let me tell you what to do, alright?' 

Patsy was taken aback by this, her brain working overtime to switch gears and really consider just what Delia might be talking about.

'Are we still talking about the bed?' 

'Yeah? Kind of?’ Delia scratched her head, worried. ‘I just don't want to push you into doing something you really don't want to.' 

Patsy was still confused and relayed the expression plainly on her face. 

'I don't… I don't know.’ Delia continued, flustered, ‘I feel like I don't know anything except that I don't want you to let me push you around. I know I can be thick headed sometimes and I have a temper…' 

Patsy slumped her shoulders. Delia didn’t understand; nothing about any of this was her fault. 

'Deels-’

‘I just… I’m just trying to be kinder to you is all…’ 

Patsy placed her hand on her hip and scratched her head. ‘Does it… does it have anything to do with, um, the night I came over?” 

‘I mean, yes?’ Delia replied, unsure. ‘And no? Patsy it’s a lot of things, alright?’ 

‘You don’t have to treat me any differently.’ 

‘But I want to, Pats.' 

Patsy took a step back, sighing. She felt defensive all of a sudden. ‘No, see… this is what I was afraid of.’

‘What?’ 

‘I don’t know, that… me coming to you and telling you everything and… and now you’re saying you want to treat me differently.’

‘Pats,’ Delia sighed, looking as if she were struggling to explain herself, ‘I just mean that-’ 

‘It was a lot,’ Patsy cut her off, ‘I know it was a lot because I lived through it and I guess I just wanted to give you some space.’ 

'Space? Why would I need space?' 

Patsy looked down and picked at her fingers, her mind going back to the night she showed up at Delia's flat. That whole day really, when she confronted her about the bullying. 

The moment Patsy shoved Delia out of her door and onto the path flashed through her mind and she took a step back, waves of regret washing over her. 

Delia didn't want Patsy to let her push her around but Patsy was the only one between the two of them that did any physical pushing. She didn't feel like she deserved any of Delia's time after that. 

She couldn't help but think that everything she unloaded that night onto Delia was too much. To be honest it was too much for anyone, but she didn't want Delia to think she would use her as some emotional crutch. 

‘Space from… from me. From all my shit, my baggage…’ 

‘Pats,’ Delia sighed. 

‘I just feel like… I just want you to know I’m not… I wasn't trying to burden you with it.’ 

‘Patsy, that’s… that’s not it at all.’ 

‘Then why do you seem so uncomfortable around me?’ 

Delia took a step back, and blinked. ‘You think... _I’m_ uncomfortable when you’re near…?’

Shyly, Patsy looked down and nodded. 

Delia’s shoulders fell, and she sighed. 'Patsy if anything I feel like it's me making you uncomfortable.'

Patsy knew this was partially true, but would never admit it was because she was so bloody attracted to the woman. 

‘But I’m not…’ 

'Then why… I mean…’ Delia threw her hands out, already looking exhausted by this conversation, ‘these past few weeks I've called you and texted you to reach out and check in, and I get one word replies. We used to hang out every weekend, and at work, and now I feel like we haven't spent time together in ages.’ 

Patsy looked down, nodding, a wave of guilt rushing over her.

‘I truly meant it when I said I wanted to be friends, but you turn me down every time I reach out. You've been like this ever since…'

Patsy watched as Delia paused, and her heart thumped painfully in her chest as Delia looked down and clenched her fist. 

'It's because of what happened at the party, isn't it?' she asked, her voice low. 

Patsy opened her mouth to reply, but no words came out. Her heart stung with the memory of the kiss they shared, at the spark of hope Patsy had felt that Delia might have some romantic feelings for her, but then was crushed to find out it had been a mistake. 

'I knew it.' Delia shook her head, looking thoroughly ashamed of herself. 'I really fucked up that night, didn't I.'

Patsy felt panicked, 'Deels, no-'

'No, I just… nothing's been the same ever since with us has it?’ 

'But that's not why-’

'Then what is it Pats! What am I supposed to think when you don't tell me anything?!'

Patsy anxiously ran her fingers through her hair, not knowing what else to do or what to say. She was supposed to have come out here to talk with Delia and make her feel better! This conversation was not at all going to plan. 

Delia looked supremely frustrated. 'You followed me out here and said you wanted to talk but you're not _saying_ anything. I can't… I don't know what you want if you don’t tell me!’ 

'I want us to be friends!' 

'I want that too but I feel like I can't get close to you!'

Patsy placed her hands on her hips and paced slightly, hating this. She truly wanted to tell Delia everything but she just couldn't, and she was having trouble navigating how to say the right things to keep this from getting worse. 

'It’s just… the moment I feel like you're letting me in you shut me out again…’ 

Delia looked up at her pleadingly, and Patsy felt her heart break a little for being the cause of so much strife for the woman in this moment. 

'If this is truly about… you feeling like you’re a burden, I can assure you, you’re not. You shouldn't feel ashamed or embarrassed about opening up-’ 

‘Well I can’t really help that, can I?’ Patsy bit back, ‘Not when I’ve basically had to deal with everything that’s ever happened on my own.’ 

‘You don't have to anymore.’ 

‘Well it’s a hard habit to break, alright?!’ Patsy clenched her jaw, letting out a deep breath through her nostrils and willing herself to calm down. She didn’t want to lose her temper. She didn’t want to resort to yelling. 

‘Patsy,’ Delia sighed, sounding tired, as if her patience were wearing thin, ‘If you want to be friends… if you truly want that… being open with one another has to be a consistent thing. We're past the point of just being casual acquaintances, aren’t we? Hell, were we ever there to begin with? If we want to be friends we need to do the work…’ 

Not knowing what to say, Patsy merely nodded in agreement. 

There was a good long pause where Patsy could feel Delia studying her face. 

Usually Patsy was a master at masking her emotions, but now she felt her facade starting to crack. 

'Why do I feel like you're still not telling me everything?' Delia asked softly. 

There was another long pause where Patsy was unable to meet her eye. She placed her hands in her pockets and kicked at a pebble. 

‘Because I’m not,’ she finally admitted. 

‘Are you going to?’

‘I can’t.’ 

Beside her, Patsy could feel Delia withdraw. She looked down at her shoes and sighed, sounding tired. 

‘Patsy, I can't keep doing this… There's only so many times I can reach out before I stop trying. If you want this to work I need for you to meet me halfway.’ 

Looking dejected, Delia hitched her tote over her shoulder and walked past Patsy, heading back towards the house. Patsy remained still, clenching her fists in her pockets, her jaw clamped shut as she tried to ignore the stinging in her throat and behind her eyes. 

* * *

Patsy walked back to the house as soon as she was certain she could rid herself of the urge to cry. She had spent the time standing there beside the road thinking about Delia’s words. 

Meet me halfway. 

Delia had definitely done more than her fair share of reaching out and Patsy shutting her out. Patsy had her reasons for sure, but her behaviour hadn’t been fair to Delia at all. No matter what had transpired between them in the past, Delia still cared enough about her to consistently reach out, to check in with her, to invite her out and make her feel included. 

It was painful to be close to her, but suddenly, after everything Delia had done for her, it all made Patsy feel so selfish. She needed to rectify this and stop behaving this way, stop making Delia miserable. 

She needed to be better. It would all be worth it to see her smile again. 

Patsy entered the house to the sound of Delia screaming. 

She slammed the door shut and rushed towards the lounge area where she came across a sight that stunned her, then made her angry. Valerie was jovial, laughing as she held Delia off the ground and bounced her up and down. Delia in turn was frantically wiggling in her arms and kicking her feet. 

She shot a glare at Barbara and Trixie, the two women standing by the counter in the little kitchenette rummaging though the fruit and pastries Delia brought back with her, paying no mind to the strife Valerie was inflicting on Delia. 

‘Val!’ Delia shouted, distressed. ‘I’m serious! Put me down!’ 

‘No way!’ Valerie giggled, tightening her grip around Delia's torso and lifting her as high as she could, ‘I want to see if more coins fall out of ya!’

Patsy stepped forward, ignoring the pang of jealousy that flared within her at the sight of another woman's hands on Delia, ‘Val, what the fuck are you doing?’ 

‘Val! I swear to god!’ Delia pleaded, wiggling frantically to no avail. 

‘Deels is giving away free monies, look!’ Valerie grinned. 

The woman laughed maniacally as she bounced Delia again in her arms, loose coins falling from her pockets and clinking noisily to the floor. 

‘Like a fuckin’ piggybank, lookit,’ the woman went on teasingly, grinning from ear to ear as more coins fell. 

‘Ugh! Fuck off Val!' Delia swung her fist and hit Valerie's hip. ‘The shop was cash only!' 

A hot anger flashed through Patsy’s body and made her voice boom throughout the house. ‘Valerie, stop bullying her!’ 

Patsy’s outburst seemed to startle Valerie, who halted her motions. ‘Wha? I’m not-’

‘Fucking put her down already!’ Patsy yelled once more, hoping the intensity of it would get her point across. 

Valerie loosened her grip immediately and Delia landed on her feet. All eyes in the room were on Patsy, except Delia’s, who looked back to Valerie and shoved the woman. 

‘Fucking dickhead,’ she swore. 

‘I wasn’t-’ Valerie held her hands out helplessly, watching as Delia turned and stormed back to her bedroom. 

Valerie sighed, exasperated, as Delia slammed her door shut. ‘I was just having a bit of a laugh!’ 

‘Well she wasn’t fucking laughing Val! And you two,’ Patsy turned to Barbara and Trixie, the former of the two immediately withdrawing her hand from the tote full of pastries and turning beet red. ‘Why didn’t either of you bloody step in and say anything?!’

‘Don’t try to drag us into this!’ Trixie wiggled a stern finger. ‘Besides, it’s not like Valerie would really hurt her!’ 

‘Was just trying to cheer her up!’ Valerie pleaded, looking worried. ‘I didn’t think she would be so upset!’ 

‘Because you never fucking listen to her!’ Patsy gesticulated wildly as she turned back to Valerie, close to her wits end. ‘You’re pulling bloody pranks on her all the time and wondering why she’s so fucking miserable around you! If you took your bloody head out your arse you’d see that!’ 

‘OK, I’m sorry!’ Valerie called out to Patsy’s retreating form. 

‘Don’t bloody apologize to _me_ , you twat!’ Patsy replied, making her way back down the hall and towards her and Delia’s room. 

Once she approached the door, Patsy took a deep breath to try and calm herself before she tapped her knuckle on the door twice.

‘Deels?’ Patsy asked softly. 

‘What do you want, Patsy,’ came a terse reply, muffled from behind the door. 

Patsy looked down at her feet, speaking as calmly as she could. ‘I just want to know if you’re alright.’

‘Of course I’m not bloody alright,’ Delia snapped, sniffling. 

Patsy rested her forehead against the door and took a deep breath. Then another. 

‘May I come in?’ she asked. 

‘It’s your room too,’ came Delia’s meek reply. 

‘I'll only come in if you want me to.'

Delia sighed, exasperated. ‘Fine, yes, come in.’ 

Patsy entered the room, but didn't see Delia. The sounds of running water reached her ears from the attached bathroom, so Patsy patiently waited for Delia to return as she shut the door behind her. Soon, Delia returned with her hair down around her shoulders, pointedly not looking at Patsy as she sat down on the edge of the bed. 

Now would have been the opportune moment to do or say something to comfort Delia. To let her know she had at least one person here in this house who cared about her and her feelings, but naturally, Patsy clammed up, afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing. 

She felt she had done enough of that already this morning, but before she could gather the courage to start any kind of conversation, Delia broke the silence. 

'Why did you do it?' 

Patsy had no idea what she meant. 'Do what?' 

'Tell her to stop,’ Delia replied as she kicked off her trainers. ‘Why did you stick up for me?' 

If Patsy were honest with herself, it was primarily because she couldn't stand the sight of another woman's hands all over Delia, even if it was only Valerie. She had hated seeing Delia so mercilessly teased like that, especially knowing what kind of emotionally vulnerable state she was in. 

All because of her, no less. 

'Because that's what friends do for one another,' she managed to say. 

Delia clutched the edge of the bed, looking up at Patsy with an intensity that nearly made Patsy take a step back. 'Are we? Friends?'

Patsy remained silent. Her initial inclination was to say Yes! but was that really true? Delia obviously didn't think so, and Patsy knew she had been pushing her away since that kiss they’d shared back at the party. Pushing her away because she had feelings for her, because she was still so bloody attracted to her. But she couldn't tell Delia all that. 

'I feel like there’s a lot you're not saying right now.' Delia said quietly.

Patsy clenched her jaw and rubbed her eyes, sighing. She wasn't used to being around anyone so observant. Her usual way of masking her emotions behind a resting face obviously wasn't working on Delia. And Patsy didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. 

She needed to speak, though. She needed to find her words. She was going to lose Delia if she didn't say something. 

‘Delia, you were right earlier,' Patsy managed to get out, thinking back on their conversation outside the village, 'You've been a better friend to me these last few weeks… last few months really, than I have been to you. I've been selfish and unfair and I want to do better. I want to be friends with you.’ 

‘Well... you probably shouldn’t,’ Delia replied sadly. 

Patsy looked back at her thoroughly confused. ‘What do you mean? You were just saying...’ 

‘Well, I’ve had a chance to think since then.’ 

Patsy tensed, her whole body filling with anxiety. What on earth did Delia mean? Had she changed her mind? Had Patsy been too late? Was she going to say none of it was going to work out and they should cut ties? 

A sad sniffle broke through Patsy's thoughts, bringing her back to the moment.

She watched as Delia brought her hands to her face and sighed dejectedly, ‘I have so many regrets, Patsy. I feel like I fucked everything up.' 

Patsy felt helpless, hating to see Delia so upset like this. She had no idea what to do or say, except knowing she needed to try to reassure her, to try and make things good between them again. 

‘Delia, it’s alri-’

‘Don’t say that!’ Delia snapped, rising to her feet, ‘Of course it’s not alright! I… I'm… I’m so ashamed of the way I’ve treated you.’ 

Any remaining inclination to keep her distance from Delia flew out the window at the sight of her teary eyes and wobbly lip. 

Slowly, Patsy stepped forward, taking Delia's hands in hers. When Delia didn't pull away, Patsy brought Delia's arms around her waist and placed her own arms around the smaller woman's shoulders, pulling her close. 

It was just a hug, but she didn't know how much she needed this little bit of physical contact until it was happening. 

In her arms, Patsy could hear Delia sniff and let out a shaky sigh, and her own heart rate calm when she felt Delia take a few deep breaths and begin to relax in her arms.

‘You don't have to be kind to me,’ Delia mumbled into her shoulder. 

‘I want to.’

'Why?' 

'Because you don't deserve to be treated otherwise.'

A moment passed where neither talked, and Patsy wondered for a moment if she had said the right thing. As if reading she’d been waiting for permission, she felt Delia finally clutch at the back of her top and hold onto her tighter. 

‘When you first came back I recognized you right away, you know,' Delia began softly, her head still resting against Patsy's shoulder. 'Just seeing you brought back all those terrible memories from school, all those stupid pranks you pulled, how you made me feel. I hated you on the spot.'

Patsy closed her eyes and sighed, thinking Delia wasn't the only one to regret her past behavior.

'Every time you came near you made me feel uneasy because all I could think about was how you bullied me, and I convinced myself I wouldn’t like you. If I was made to work with you, fine, but I wasn’t going to like you. I was adamant about it. I didn’t want to get close to you, Patsy, but…’ 

Patsy swallowed a lump in her throat, waiting for Delia to continue. She didn’t know if her nerves could take much more of this anticipation. 

‘For _some_ reason I… it was so hard to resist it…’ Delia continued, 'And then I just couldn't anymore. I liked being around you. My days would start to feel off if we didn't at least have a chat in the hall at the clinic, and then just hanging out with you on Sundays really became the highlight of my week…'

Delia finally pulled away from Patsy and let go, taking a step back as she wiped her eyes. 

'Look I know it's silly-' she continued, looking down at her feet. 

'It's not,' Patsy replied, almost feeling teary herself. If this was as close to a love confession she was going to ever get from Delia, she would take it. 

‘-but it's my fault we're… wherever we're at now. I stupidly put the blame on you for many problems in my life… and I shouldn’t have, Patsy. If it was me, how I felt about you being here, or my dad… that… none if that was your fault. It was me and my stupid prejudice… bullies do what they do because they’re in pain, don’t they? I didn’t know you back then. I didn’t know everything that had happened with your family. And now that I understand everything you went through I just… feel terrible. I feel like it’s been me who's been the bully and… and I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did. I should have been kinder to you.’ 

Patsy opened her mouth, and closed it again, navigating through her words. Ever since Delia showed up on her doorstep to start their garden she had been a very welcome presence in her life. It was very rare for Patsy to feel wanted and even more rare to have someone go out of their way to include her and make her feel wanted. While Patsy had stayed out of relationships and worked on herself after breaking up with Moonyung, she was perfectly happy with the person she was, but Delia's friendship made her feel whole. Like there was nothing missing while she was there. 

But when they were apart, it hurt. When they were apart like they had been, not seeing one another, not speaking, Patsy's whole body just felt listless, always accompanied by a dull ache in her chest. 

An ache she always felt blossom into hope and love whenever Delia looked at her and smiled. 

She wanted Delia in her life, needed her, really, even if it was only just as a friend. She reached out and took Delia’s hand in hers. 

‘Delia, I’ve never felt you've been unkind to me.’ 

‘Of course I have.’ 

‘No, you… I understand I’ve caused you pain… even your father…’ 

‘Pats you know you had nothing to do with-’ 

‘I know but still I can understand how one would think… I just… there’s thousands of people out there who are in the same situation as your dad, your family. I wish I could help them all. What my father did was abhorrent.’ 

‘Pats, you’re not responsible for any of that. It was silly of me to-’

‘I know, I'm just trying to say-’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘I’m sorry.’

Patsy took both of Delia's hands in hers now, feeling encouraged when Delia squeezed back. 

‘Delia, I just want us to be OK,' Patsy said softly. 'I miss what we had. I miss… you.' 

Patsy could just see Delia’s eyes brimming with tears before she looked down, nodding. ‘I miss you too.’ 

‘Do you want to try?’ 

A moment of silence passed and Patsy didn’t dare breathe. Slowly, Delia nodded her head, her watery eyes a more brilliant blue as a fat tear streamed down her face. 

Patsy couldn't help herself. She reached out and cradled Delia’s face in her hand, wiping away a tear with her thumb. Delia closed her eyes and leaned in ever so slightly and the sight only made Patsy's feelings for the woman blossom brilliantly. 

Patsy needed to resist the urge to lean down and kiss those tears away. She was almost glad when a knock at the door interrupted their moment like a bucket of ice water being dumped over them. 

‘Delia,’ came a muffled voice from the other side of the door. 

Patsy pulled her hand away just as Delia stepped back and harshly wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. 

‘What do you want, Val?’ she said tersely. 

Delia quickly opened the door to reveal Valerie standing there, shoulders slumped and pouting. 

'I just wanted to say I'm sorry for earlier.' 

'Hmmph,' Delia grumbled, unconvinced. 

'Truly, mate, if I'm being a dickhead just say something.'

'Well I tried but you wouldn't listen!'

'I absolutely will next time,’ Valerie replied, raising her right hand in a scouts salute, ‘especially since I want to get through the rest of this holiday with my girlfriend still speaking to me.'

Delia tutted dismissively, crossing her arms. 

'And you, of course! Look,’ she held out her hand to reveal a chocolate danish. ‘I brought you your favorite pastry.'

'I bought those for everyone!' Delia huffed. 

'Hey now I had to save this from Barbara! You know how much of a chocolate fiend she is!' 

Delia kept her suspicious glare trained on the taller woman as she snatched the pastry from her grasp, pushing past Valerie and making her way back to the kitchen. 

Valerie looked back to Patsy, sighing with relief, 'Well I did! The woman's mad about chocolate.' 

Patsy pursed her lips, rather tired of Valerie's inability to grasp the severity of any kind of moment. 

It was no wonder the woman took ages to get with Lucille, from all she had heard from Trixie on the matter. 

‘Hey, look mate, are we cool?’ Valerie asked tentatively. ‘Like, I truly was only kidding and I really don’t want all the women in this house to have it out for me.’ 

Patsy rolled her eyes. In an attempt to get through the rest of the weekend without a chip on her shoulder, she shrugged and nodded. 

‘Brilliant,’ Valerie replied, looking visibly relaxed. 

'Quick question though, why does everyone try to placate Delia with food?' Patsy asked, genuinely perplexed. 'Like with Trixie and the muffins yesterday?' 

Valerie shrugged. 'I mean, it seems to work, mate, so...'

Patsy rolled her eyes and left the room to join the others for breakfast. 

* * *

It was the hug that started it. The touching. 

Delia felt much better after their talk, certainly, but that hug… It made her wonder when the last time was that she was just… held. 

It was a relief, really, their talk. She felt emotionally validated and connected to Patsy on a deeper level than she could have ever imagined, _but that hug_. Gosh, she didn’t know how much she had needed it until it was happening. 

Now though, the desire was there, that constant nagging itch on the tips of her fingers. She’d been able to tamp it down until now, managed to stop herself from just reaching out and touching Patsy at every opportunity, but now there was no chance of containing it.

The first instance of the day had been innocent enough. Delia was at the stove preparing poached eggs when she noted Patsy sitting at the kitchen table with her tea, watching the morning's news, and pounding on her shoulder again with a clenched fist. 

Patsy must have really slept at an awkward angle. Delia ignored the sting in her chest at the thought, secretly wishing that she would have shared the bed with her. She pushed those negative feelings away and instead decided to try and help the poor woman.

Delia couldn't help herself, finding that she was acting on some sort of instinct to reach out and comfort Patsy. She did it without thinking really, abandoning the eggs on the hob to walk up behind her. She squeezed the muscle between Patsy’s shoulder and neck with her thumb and forefinger and tried not to smile too much when the redhead immediately bowed her head to the table, her body going limp and letting out an almost salacious moan. 

‘Feel better?’ Delia asked, pressing down harder on the knot. 

Patsy merely groaned her approval and rested her forehead on the table. 

‘I knew it, Patsy’s a robot,’ Barbara teased as she bit into a piece of bacon. ‘Delia’s found the secret button to turn her off.’ 

Lucille laughed from behind her coffee, ‘Judging by the sounds of it I think she’s doing the opposite.’ 

Delia let go immediately and swatted at Lucille with her tea towel before hurrying back to the stove, blushing profusely. 

There were several other moments throughout the day that left her just as flustered. 

She noticed the touches. It was hard to ignore. She had been hyper aware of Patsy's presence before, but now everything was in overdrive. Just knowing Patsy was close to her made her heart race, and she lost the ability to speak if the woman rested a hand on her in any capacity. 

They were subtle moments, too, during mundane activities that subsequently made them more thrilling. Moments like when Patsy brushed up against her shoulder while getting ready in their shared bathroom. When Patsy’s hand rested against the small of her back to hold her steady as she reached for something on a high shelf. 

On their way to the beach for the day, Patsy reached out and offered her hand for Delia to take as they navigated a rather harrowing section of the path. Delia took it, needing to remind herself to let go when her feet were safely on level ground again. 

She had to keep telling herself she was imaging it, Patsy touching her more. She had to be the one doing all the touching, only she didn’t realise she was doing it until it was too late. Like when she gave Patsy the massage at the table. Delia couldn’t help worrying that she was being too forward. That maybe she should rein in her wandering hands. Allow Patsy her space. 

Any nagging doubts that she was being too much for the redhead went right out the window when she saw the woman unfold her camping chair right next to where Delia had laid out her towel. 

She wasn’t just imagining things. Maybe Patsy _did_ want to be closer to her, after all. 

Patsy wasn’t pushing her away any more, and Delia welcomed it. She felt safe around her. She felt wanted. She felt like things were right with them... Finally. 

Well, almost. 

Delia got to her knees and assisted Patsy in digging a hole in the sand deep enough to hold the heavy umbrella they had lugged from the house. She tried not to stare too hard at the bead of sweat that ran down Patsy’s neck and disappeared into her cleavage. A near impossibility when her breasts looked so tempting, too. Delia suddenly found herself rather jealous of Patsy’s own perspiration. She needed to catch herself before she leaned forward and fell face first into the woman's chest, but then again they just seemed so inviting, why _shouldn’t_ she just put her face there?! 

‘Hey!’ 

Delia was broken from her trance and fell backwards on her bum, spotting Barbara walking towards them, who looked excited about whatever it was she was carrying in her hands. 

‘Hey Babs,’ Patsy called out, bringing her hand up to block the sun from her eyes, ‘where did you get those?’

Barbara held up two oval shaped pieces of wood. Delia had seen something like those at the shops in the village, but didn’t quite know what they were. 

‘Not sure really. I discovered this door in the cottage when I was looking for secret passageways...’ 

Delia laughed, ‘OK?’ 

‘And these were inside. I have no idea what they are though but I think they’re beach toys. They look like surfboards, but not?’ 

‘Those are skimboards,’ Patsy stated, rising to her feet and taking one, ‘you ride them along the surf.’ 

‘Really? How does that work?’ 

‘You just toss them when a wave rolls in and ride it. Come here, I’ll show you.’ 

Delia took a moment to watch, bemused, as Patsy and Barbara walked down to the water and Patsy threw the board onto an incoming wave. She hopped on and skimmed along the water, apparently possessing the coordination of someone who had surfed or skateboarded in her past. 

Then again Patsy was good at everything. Delia rolled her eyes thinking of course she was. _Then again_ she knew that Patsy’s last girlfriend, the horrible one, was from San Diego, and weren’t southern Californians known for those things? 

Lots of conflicting emotions raced through Delia’s head at the thought. Patsys ex girlfriend: bad. Skills Patsy might have picked up from said ex girlfriend: not bad? Didn’t seem so anyway seeing how much fun she and Barbara were having riding the waves. 

Though Barbara _did_ have terrible balance, and Delia couldn’t help the flare of jealousy that stung her chest whenever the woman stumbled and grabbed onto Patsy. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously as Barbara clung to Patsy’s shoulders and Patsy had no choice to keep hold of her hips. 

Delia blinked, realising her thoughts were absurd. This was _Barbara_ for crying out loud. Not only was she taken, but she wasn’t gay! She was _safe._

OK, perhaps not the healthiest way to think of other women especially around someone who was not at all romantically involved with you, Delia!?

Delia shook her head slightly, working to rid herself of all these absurd thoughts as she fished out a hard seltzer from the cooler and sat back on her towel. She dug through her tote for something to read. 

Barbara walked up soon after Delia got comfortable, sitting in her own chair, and draped her towel around her shoulders. 

‘I give up,’ Barbara sighed dejectly, ‘can’t stay on these things for the life of me.’ 

‘Looked like you were having fun trying,’ Delia remarked, trying to ignore her feelings of jealousy. She looked back out onto the water to see that Lucille and Valerie had joined Patsy and the three of them were taking turns on the two skimboards. 

‘Patsy’s a patient teacher, but I’m hopeless when it comes to anything athletic.’ 

Alright, now Delia felt bad for ever having any negative thoughts about Barbara. 

‘How's the water?’ Trixie asked conversationally. Her tone was blithe as she scrolled through her phone with her thumb. She had been so quiet that Delia had forgotten the woman had been sitting there nearly this whole time. 

‘Not too cold,’ Barbara smiled. ‘Want to go for a swim?’

Trixie looked up from her phone. ‘Hmm?’

‘Do you want to go?’ Barbara pointed to the water. 

Her question went unanswered as Trixie’s phone began to vibrate in her hand. ‘Hang on sweetie, I’m getting a call.’ Trixie answered the phone, grinning, ‘Well aren’t you up early. What? Just getting home from work? Goodness and I thought us midwives had odd hours.’ 

Trixie got up from her chair and began to walk towards the surf, and next to her Delia could hear Barbara sigh. 

‘What's the matter?’ Delia asked. 

‘I don't know,’ Barbara sighed dejectedly, ‘I just feel like mine and Trixie’s friendship has been off for a bit. She's always on the phone chatting to someone and she won’t ever tell me who. I mean, is it a boyfriend? I don't know why she wouldn't tell me if it was, I don't mind… just wish she would talk to me is all.’ 

Barbara sat back in her seat, chin in her hand and looking forlorn. Delia’s heart went out to the woman. 

‘I think… if it is a new guy, or…’ Delia shrugged, ‘someone… she’ll tell you about it eventually.’

‘Why won't she tell me now?’

‘Well… I mean… she probably has her reasons. I don't know her as well as you but from what she's told me she hasn't had much luck in love.’ 

Barbara sighed. ‘Probably doesn’t help that I stole her last boyfriend.’

‘Babs, I think everyone in the world could see that you and Tom are much better suited than Trixie and Tom… and from what I can see the three of you seem to be better off the way you are now.’

‘But then why… I mean, she's my best friend and I feel like… she should be able to tell me about who she's dating right? I’m not trying to be nosey, I just want to look out for her. She’s had her heart broken too many times…’ 

Delia followed Barbara's gaze to Trixie, the woman standing just close enough to the water to get her feet wet as the waves rolled in, smiling wide as she chatted animatedly on the phone. Trixie seemed happy enough, but a thought occurred to Delia just then. 

She turned back to Barbara. ‘That might be precisely why she’s waiting to say anything to you about this person.’ 

Barbara raised an eyebrow. ‘How do you mean?’

‘Well…’ Delia looked up to the sky, pondering how best to approach this. She leaned back on her elbows and got comfortable. ‘Let me tell you a personal story.’ 

‘Alright.’ 

‘Do you know why I moved to London?’

Barbara shrugged, ‘School? To become a doctor? I mean, I’m sure Wales is gorgeous but I’m glad you’re here.’ 

‘I moved to London because I was a queer kid in a small town,’ Delia began, ‘I wanted to be in the big city closer to other queer people. That also meant cutting my parents out of a very important part of my life. I was scared. I didn’t know how they would handle it, if they knew I was gay. And honestly, I still don’t. Not really.’ 

‘You’re not out to your parents?’ 

Delia felt a little guilty about it, but shrugged and nodded, ‘I’ve just… never really found the right time to… you know. Besides, I’m fairly certain they know by now seeing as I’ve never brought anyone home, or even mentioned dating anyone.’ 

‘So will you ever?’ 

‘Someday, sure. But I don’t want to tell them about all the women I fleetingly date for a few weeks or months before it fizzles out. How exhausting that would be for them to try and keep up with all those girls!’ 

Barbara made a face like she was doing some hard sums in her head. ‘Is it really a lot?’

Delia dejectedly slumped her shoulders. ‘Well, no. But, I know for certain that when I meet the woman of my dreams and I know it’s going to last, I’ll tell them. I’ll bring that woman home for Christmas dinner and everything.’ 

‘So... sorry how does that apply to Trix?’

‘Well, maybe she doesn't want you to worry about her dating a bunch of wrong people before she finds the right one?’

‘So she’s waiting for her perfect person before she tells me about them.’ 

‘Yeah. You were lucky and found your perfect person rather quickly. For the rest of us it takes some time. Lots of mistakes and rejections and personal growth.’ 

‘You say that like I haven’t done plenty of that already.’

Delia took note of Barbara's face and immediately had that horrible feeling of having said the wrong thing without meaning to. She opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted as Patsy walked up from the water. 

‘Alright?’

‘Yeah,’ Delia said feebly, though noting Barbara getting up from her chair and walking in the opposite direction of Trixie along the water. She wondered if she ought to leave it, or follow the woman. 

Patsy pulled her chair forward slightly so her legs were in the sun and the rest of her was in the shade of the umbrella. She sat down with a sigh, dripping wet, leaning her head back as she wiped the water off her face with her towel. Delia tried in vain not to stare from her spot next to her, resting on her elbows, but it was pointless. She was honestly happy Patsy was back and close to her. 

‘How's the water?’ she asked conversationally. 

‘Oh, you know. A bit chilly when you first get in but you get used to it.’ 

‘Hmm,’ Delia replied. She reached across herself to grab the drink she had perched in the sand, taking a sip. It was only when she lay back down that she caught Patsy looking at her. Delia had felt relatively fine until just then, but then she wondered how many belly rolls had appeared when she leant over at that awkward angle, how pale she was, all the visible stretch marks she had all over her tummy and thighs. 

She couldn't help it. She knew it was silly to feel self-conscious over something she had no control over, but she felt disgusted with herself. She felt too exposed. She needed to hide. 

Patsy watched her earnestly, almost alarmed with how fast Delia rose from her spot. ‘Where are you going?’ 

‘Oh, I…’ Delia looked around, needing to find an excuse to bugger off when she spotted Barbara. Now felt like a good time to try and talk to the woman. ‘I think I said something to Barbara that might have hurt her feelings. Going to try and have a chat with her.’ 

‘Oh… alright.’ 

Delia walked away without replying, cringing to herself and thinking of how much of a coward she was. She still hugged her arms wishing she could disappear from Patsy's sight, and desperately hoped the woman wasn't watching her walk away. 

She decided to focus on Barbara as she approached her, reaching out and gently touching her arm to get her attention. 

‘I’m sorry about what I said earlier, Babs, I didn't mean to imply that you, I don't know, haven't lived life or anything.’ 

Barbara scratched her cheek, and shrugged, looking down. She looked rather awkward and Delia imagined that the woman probably wanted to avoid confrontation. 

‘Oh, it’s alright. I know you didn’t.’ 

‘I think I just meant that… you and Tom have just both kind of always known what you wanted in a partner.’ 

‘Not always,’ Barbara remarked, looking over Delia’s shoulder to Trixie.

‘Well, her aside, when you did get together, you just fit, and you knew it and… a lot of us wish we could find the same thing. Dating is just, absolutely horrid. Be glad you’ll never have to go through that fucking palava.’

Barbara smiled, and Delia was glad that she finally got a laugh out of the woman. 

‘And anyway, you’re the only one of us who has had a successful relationship. You’re the expert.’ 

Barbara nodded her head towards the water. ‘What about Val and Lucille?’

Delia looked over her shoulder to see the two women floating somewhere out where the waters were calm, wrapped up in one another and bouncing along with the waves. Delia tried not to feel jealous. 

‘Oh, too soon to tell with them. Besides, if I was going to come to anyone for relationship advice, it would be you. Speaking of…’ Delia cringed and looked up at Barbara with one eye open, feeling shy yet daring for even mentioning it, ‘I think I might need to do just that.’ 

Barbara seemed to stand up a bit more straight, and looked back at Delia intrigued. ‘How can I help?’

* * *

‘Ni Hao.’ 

Delia perked her head up and looked over to Valerie. ‘Hmm?’

The group was lounging around in the kitchen, or on the sofa, mindlessly scrolling through their phones, or watching television. Trixie had the remote and flipped between home remodeling shows and old reruns of Xena. Several glasses of coke or something boozy that Valerie had concocted were spread about the coffee table while they nibbled on things they dunked in hummus or sour cream and onion dip. 

‘Ni Hao,’ Valerie said, scrolling through her phone, ‘new Chinese place nearby. Sound good for dinner? Or did you want to cook?’ she asked pointedly to Delia. 

‘Me?’ Delia asked, ‘I’m on holiday. I don’t want to cook.’ 

‘What about Puffin Cafe?’ Lucille asked, looking over Valerie's shoulder to see the options on her phone. 

‘More of a breakfast place, really. Was thinking we could pop in there before we headed back on Monday.’ 

‘More like puff-in there. Amiright?’ Trixie eyed her friends looking for validation that her pun was funny. No one laughed, and her face soured. ‘Alright, forget you all then.’ 

Barbara scrolled through her phone as well, sitting up, excited to contribute a suggestion. ‘There's a place called the Gobblebox-’ 

Valerie leaned forward and sprayed her drink through her pursed lips, and she and Lucille burst out laughing. Patsy even hid a smirk behind her hand as Barbara looked thoroughly confused 

‘What have I said?’ Barbara asked the room, ‘What's wrong with the Gobblebox? The Gobblebox sounds like a fine place. Does anyone want to try the Gobblebox?’ 

By this point Valerie had tears running down her cheeks as she sunk to the floor laughing. 

‘Stop saying it before Valerie has wets herself,’ Trixie remarked, rolling her eyes. 

‘What, Gobblebox?’

‘Yes, you tit!’ 

‘Ni Hao sounds nice!’ Patsy interjected, ‘Been a good long while since I’ve had a decent Chinese.’

‘Don’t think it’ll be that decent out in this part of the country,’ Delia pointed out. 

‘Well, if it’s truly terrible there's always a chippy close by, isn’t there?’ Patsy rose and moved to help Valerie into a standing position. 

‘Suppose we ought to get ready then,’ Trixie sighed, rising from her seat. She and Barbara discussed who would get the shared bathroom first while Valerie and Lucille went to their bedroom to freshen up. 

Delia looked back to see Patsy collecting dishes from the lounge. 

‘Are you going to change?’ she asked. 

‘Oh, yeah,’ Patsy gave a smile, moving to the sink, ‘just thought I’d tidy up first.’ 

‘Would you like some help?’

‘You’re alright. Figured you’d like some privacy while you get ready.’ 

Delia decided not to argue. Once alone in their room, she stripped to her knickers and spent a moment sifting through the clothes she had hastily packed the morning before. She was able to fish out the one dress she’d tossed in and held it up to give it a good look. It was a yellow wrap dress, perfect for the summer weather, and little blue dots that, when you squinted, you could see they were navy coloured cherries. She liked it, it looked cute, and quite honestly it was her only option. 

‘It’ll have to do,’ she sighed, and threw it on. 

Delia was bent forward over the sink, applying makeup in the mirror of the en suite when Patsy finally knocked and entered the room. 

‘Oh,’ Patsy paused as she took a moment to really look at Delia, ‘you’re getting dressed up.’ 

Delia smirked at her through the mirror, ‘I’d hardly consider this _dressed up,_ but yes. Figured I’d put a little paint on this barn, as my mother likes to say.’ 

Delia went back to feathering on some foundation with a brush as Patsy nervously ran her fingers through her hair and laughed. 

‘Well, if you’re putting in the effort I might try to…’ 

Delia continued to apply her makeup as Patsy placed her luggage on the edge of the bed, and shuffled through the contents. It was only when Patsy gave a discontented sigh did Delia put down her things and turn. She tried not to act too shocked to see Patsy standing there by the bed in only her bra and a pair of rather flattering shorts that hugged her bum quite well. 

Patsy tisked and raised her hand to scratch the back of her head. 

‘Ugh, why did I bring these…’ she mumbled. 

‘What's the matter?’ Delia stood beside her and looked down, and saw a perfectly fine and festive Hawaiian shirt, white with a pattern of blue palm trees and surfboards with a yellow stripe down the middle, and a blue button down top with a pattern of tiny white dots. Both were short sleeved and summery and Delia didn’t see what the issue was

‘Oh, I don't know. Just feel like I didn't bring anything for a nice evening out thinking we would be hanging out here the whole time. The only decent shirts I have are these button downs and I just…’ 

‘What's wrong with these?’

‘Nothing I just… I don’t know, I like them and I want to wear them but also I feel a little insecue about looking _too_ gay?’ 

Delia looked back at the woman rather bemused. ‘Didn’t you wear this Hawaiian one at Pride?’ she asked. 

‘Well, yes, but that was _Pride_. People wear whatever they damn well please at Pride, don't they? Sometimes not much at all.’

Delia couldn’t help but stifle a giggle and Patsy slumped her shoulders, letting out a sigh. 

‘Sorry, I just… I’m always wanting to go back and forth between looking feminine and androgynous.’ 

Delia’s eyes widened at this revelation. She thought back on anything she had ever seen Patsy in besides her outfits at the clinic. Whatever she wore there was professional, but not boring. Outside of that, her clothing was plain and muted, usually a solid coloured top and jeans. Right here on the bed however were some colourful tops that not only seemed to match Patsy's personality but would probably look exceptionally good on her too. 

‘I don't struggle with gender identity or anything but I’m a coward and just too scared to wear what I really want sometimes, afraid of what other people might think. It’s like, I want to show off, but I also want to hide?’ Patsy tisked again and gave an aggravated sigh, covering her face with her hands. ‘Ugh, sorry, you probably think I’m being silly.’ 

‘Pats,’ Delia sighed and gently pulled her hands away, ‘I don’t think you’re being silly, but I am curious as to where this is coming from.’ 

Patsy gave a smirk, unable to meet her eyes. ‘Oh, you know, the odd thing of wearing a uniform nearly every day until uni, then being made to attend a bunch of functions for uni and grad school where I was made to dress elegantly and hyperfeminine. Suppose I’ve just had too many people in my life telling me what to wear or criticizing how I look all the time. Now that I don’t… I’m not sure what’s really me. Even after all this time I still don’t feel like I’ve figured that out…’ 

Patsy nervously crossed her arm across herself, scratching at her neck as she looked away. 

Delia had caught the sadness in her eyes and understood the meaning behind her insecurities. Given all that Patsy had told her about her past, especially her terrible ex, it was no wonder Patsy struggled with her appearance or embracing who she was and how she wanted to present herself. Delia thought Patsy was gorgeous, but in this moment she was reminded that everyone had their own struggles, their own insecurities about their appearance. 

‘Pats,’ Delia said softly, gently resting a hand on her shoulder to turn the redhead towards her. She paused for a moment to collect her thoughts, and think about what she was going to say next. 

Delia reached down and picked up the Hawaiian shirt, feeling the fabric between her fingers. 

‘I like this. I like the colours. They’re bright and airy.’ she smiled, ‘I like how this feels, too.’

‘Yeah, so do I.’ 

‘It’s soft and light.’ 

‘Yeah, that's why I bought it, I suppose, good for the warm weather…’ 

‘How do you feel when you wear it?’ 

Patsy held the garment in her hands and studied it, smiling. ‘Honestly, I like it. Being on the taller end I feel like shirts like these fit my shoulders well, and, well, I just like how it looks with the collar buttoned all the way to the top. Feels more proper. Makes me stand up straight and like I’m a bit dressed up but… not? If that makes sense.’ 

‘Yeah,’ Delia smiled, pleased to see that Patsy was becoming more relaxed. ‘Put it on.’ 

Patsy slowly nodded, taking a step back to throw the shirt on, and began to button from the bottom up. Delia stood by silently, trying not to feel too guilty about enjoying the view. When Patsy reached the top button, she stopped. 

‘I need some help,’ she said shyly, ‘the ones at the top are stubborn things.’

Patsy looked up as Delia made quick work of the last button, and even in the dim lighting Delia noted the blush that feathered across the taller woman's cheeks. 

‘I’m sorry about all this,’ Patsy said softly. 

‘What do you mean?’

‘Just… being weird about all this and… everything.’ 

‘You’re not being weird.’ 

‘Well I just mean… I don’t mean to dump all my baggage on you is all.’ 

Delia took a deep breath, finishing buttoning the button before she took the palms of her hands and smoothed Patsy's shirt down across her shoulders, again, taking a moment to think of how she wanted to respond.

She moved on to cuffing Patsy's sleeves as she replied, ‘I should have told you this earlier this morning, but I dislike that term. Baggage.’ 

‘Oh?’

‘Well, it's otherwise a relatively fine word, but it has such negative connotations to it, doesn't it? Implying someone is bringing something unwanted and burdensome into a relationship.’ 

‘What do you prefer then?’

‘Luggage,’ Delia grinned, and moved to cuff Patsy's other sleeve. 

Patsy squinted an eye and looked up contemplatively, ‘I feel like those are the same thing.’ 

‘Well I _feel_ like they're not,’ Delia replied. ‘Luggage is simply what you start out with while traveling around until you land at your destination, isn’t it? And then you say, “Oh by the way, here are my things”, and share with your partner, or friend or whomever, all the good and the bad that has made you the person you are today.’ 

‘So you don't mind my luggage then?’

‘Why would I?’

‘Dunno… I have a lot of it and…feel like most people would run far far away at the sight of it.’ 

Delia reached between them and took Patsy’s hands in hers, meeting her eye. ‘Well I’m still here.’ 

Her heart thumped in her chest at the sight of Patsy smiling so genuinely back at her. 

‘Yes, I know.’ 

Delia watched as Patsy looked down at their hands intertwined between them, and was pleasantly surprised when she felt the woman hold on tight. ‘Th-thank you for, just, you know, listening.’ 

Delia could see that Patsy was fighting back tears, and she so wished to be able to lean forward and kiss them away. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Patsy's shoulders and pulled her close, pressing her nose into the crook of her neck. She reveled in the chance to hold Patsy again, feel her pressed up against her and smell her. It felt so good to hold her, and she could hardly believe that it was just this morning that they had shared their first real hug. She wondered, if nothing else, they could hug like this more often. 

Delia forced herself to pull away, and she quickly shifted to holding Patsy at arms length and giving her a once over, nodding approvingly. ‘Well, I must say you look rather dashing.’ 

‘Really?’

‘Very holiday-maker chic? Truly, you look great and that shirt suits you very well.’ 

‘Oh. Well, thank you,’ Patsy asked, looking down and plucking at her cuffed sleeve. ‘Can I ask, why did you roll up my sleeves?’

Turning so she wouldn't see her blush, Delia made her way back to the bathroom to tidy up her makeup and put all her brushes and powders back in their travel bag. ‘You’ve got some pretty good looking arms, Pats. Be a shame not to show them off.’ 

‘Really?’

Delia turned back to the bedroom just in time to catch Patsy flexing in the mirror above the chest of drawers, and tried not to giggle at the sight. 

‘Ready?’

Patsy hesitated. ‘Ah, well, I wanted to ask you… Should I wear my hair up or down?’ 

‘Patsy, I’m not going to tell you how to wear your hair.’

Patsy shyly grinned again and ran her fingers through her hair. ‘As much as I appreciate that, there’s a difference between you _telling_ me how to wear it and me _asking_ for your input.’ 

‘Fair. Pull it back then. It’s hot and sticky,’ she said casually, then realized how that sounded and quickly added, ‘outside! It’s, you know, humid.’ 

‘Right,’ Patsy smirked, and headed to the bathroom, ‘won’t be a sec.’ 

As soon as Patsy shut the bathroom door, Delia rushed out to find Barbara and Valerie lounging on the sofa dressed and ready to go, with Trixie and Lucille still in the bathroom fighting for elbow room in front of the mirror as they applied their makeup. 

Delia entered the little lounge area and waved her hands frantically. ‘ _Come here, come here, come here,’_ she whispered. Barbara and Valerie leaned close as Delia continued to whisper, ‘ _Patsy is feeling a little down about her appearance, so make a fuss about her top when she comes out.’_

_‘Why?’_ Valerie asked. 

_‘Just do it, please? You can at least do this for me after you_ _chucked_ _me around this morning!’_

_‘I said I was sorry!’_

To Delia’s surprise, Barbara chimed in to her defense, swatting Valerie on the arm. _‘You only did that after Lucille made you!’_

Valerie’s jaw hung open, offended. _‘I would ‘ave come round eventually!’_

Trixie’s head appeared between Barbara and Delia, grinning, her eyes wide and curious. _‘What are we whispering about?’_

_‘How Val is a total dickhead without Lucille around,’_ Delia snapped. 

_‘Well I’m not the only dickhead in this whisper circle here, am I? Remember that move you pulled with the muffins in the car yesterday?!’_

_‘My hoarding of the muffins was completely justified!’_

_‘Seemed like a dickheaded thing to do!’_

_‘Kidnapper!’_

_‘Oh stop! You love it here now, don’t ya!’_

Delia’s nostrils flared, her eyes narrowed. _‘You got lucky!’_

_‘Delia!’_ Barbara cut in frantically, ‘ _What were we supposed to do when Patsy showed up?’_

Delia followed Barbara's eyes over her shoulder and whirled around, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks at the sight of Patsy in the entrance to the hallway, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, looking curiously at the group of women. Delia panicked, knowing that the sight of them huddled together and whispering probably looked very, very bad. 

Lucille exited the bathroom just then and gave an approving nod in Patsy’s direction. ‘Ooh, Patsy, nice top,’ she said, plucking at one of her sleeves. 

Patsy smiled and shyly pulled at the hem of her shirt. ‘Oh, you think?’ 

‘Yeah, I like the colours on you. You kind of match with Delia’s dress, what with the yellow and blue. Did you do that on purpose? It’s cute.’ 

Lucille looked over and finally noticed the rest of the group standing there looking rather petrified. 

‘Did I miss something?’ Lucille asked, looking to Patsy. 

‘I don't know, did she?’ Patsy asked, looking pointedly to Delia. 

‘Don’t look at me like that, I know nothing,’ Trixie raised her hands, backing away. 

Delia quickly turned her head to Valerie, glaring. ‘I blame you for this.’ 

‘Me?! Barbara’s the one who forgot!’ Valerie cried, reaching over to lightly push Barbara. 

‘Well you don’t have to go throwing _me_ under the bus!’ Barbara replied, blushing profusely. 

Delia placed her hands on her hips. ‘Don’t shove Barbara!’ 

‘That was hardly a shove!’ 

‘It was full on shove!’

‘You want to see a real shove we can take this outside!’ 

‘Can someone please separate those two?!’ Lucille rested a hand on her forehead as if she were developing a headache. ‘And head to dinner already? I’m starving… _and_ need a drink,’ she added quietly. 

Delia hung her head, feeling a bit ashamed that her idea to make Patsy feel more confident about her clothing and appearance didn’t go quite to plan, but she did notice more of a kick in Patsy's step as they walked into the village, and that at least made her feel like her efforts weren't for naught. 

* * *

‘Don’t ever tell my mother I can do this.’ 

Delia looked anxiously around the table, four pairs of eyes looking back at her expectantly, nodding their heads. The fifth pair of eyes, Trixie’s, was focused on her phone as she wrote out a novel length text with her thumbs. 

After dinner the group had walked around the village, popping in and out of shops selling ice cream or clothing or kitchy beach knick knacks. They had finally settled in a quiet pub where they were the youngest occupants by far. Delia figured it was because all the uni students and parents with kids were all back in school, leaving the older folks and the childless like themselves free to occupy the place. They had found a small table for four in the back and grabbed two extra chairs, cramming themselves together. Several rounds of drinks had already been had, the tabletop was now crowded with empty shot glasses, and half drunk pints of beer, or gin or whiskey. Conversation and teasing and laughter amongst the group grew in volume, and more daring, hence why Delia now felt compelled to do what she was about to do, but wasn’t quite drunk enough to think it was the best idea she’d ever had. 

‘Oh, mate this is epic,’ Valerie boasted, already knowing what was about to happen, ‘watch carefully Patsy, _this’ll_ be a fucking party trick, not whatever lame touching your nose with your tongue thing is.’

Patsy gasped and glared at Delia. ‘You told her!?’

‘Oh?’ Lucille piped up, ‘it was a secret?’ 

‘She tickled it out of me!’ Delia cried. 

‘Wait, Patsy can do what now?’ Barbara asked. The woman had rightly refused any shots of alcohol and had instead nursed a glass of red wine since she sat down. Delia knew the woman was a cuddler when drunk and noted that she was dangerously close to Patsy. Despite being completely harmless, Delia kept a close eye on her. 

‘How dare you, Delia,’ Patsy playfully scolded, ‘see if I trust you with any of my highly confidential secrets ever again.’ 

‘O-kay,’ Delia rolled her eyes, forcing herself not to think of what happened immediately after Patsy revealed this grand secret party trick. ‘I’ll give you that, but it’s not like it’s that big of a deal-’ 

‘What’s a big deal?’ Barbara interjected, looking around. ‘What can she do?!’

‘-loads of people can touch their nose with their tongue,’ Delia finished. 

‘Oh can they?’ Patsy asked challengingly. ‘Can _you_ do it?’ 

Delia shook her head and waved her hand dismissively. ‘Oh, I _know_ I can’t.’

‘Val? Trixie?’ Patsy looked around the table. 

Trixie finally looked up. ‘Hmm?’ and put down her phone. She grinned wide when she saw everyone looking at her. ‘Can I do what now?’

‘Touch your nose with your tongue.’ 

‘I can do it if I push my nose down a bit,’ Barbara said, and displayed her theory. 

‘OK wait, let me try,’ Lucille added, her eyes crossing and tongue poking out from between her lips. Valerie and Trixie joined in, and suddenly everyone around the small table had their eyebrows doing funky wiggles, their eyes crossed, tongues out, and looking quite a sight.

The look Delia gave Patsy bore a remarkable resemblance to one a mother might give their spouse after they had unwittingly riled up the children before bed, a mixture of mild disappointment, annoyance, exasperation. Meanwhile Patsy sat there across from her, arms crossed and smug smirk playing at her lips. 

Delia would have called her arrogant if she weren’t so fucking handsome. But she wasn’t about to give in and say Patsy had been right or anything. 

‘Nothing more entertaining than watching a bunch of drunk people _and_ Trixie make fools of themselves,’ she said instead. 

‘It’s all Patsy’s fault for bringing up stupid party tricks,’ Valerie quipped. 

‘Well you’re about to see one of mine if you all shut up for a hot second,’ Delia griped. 

Everyone stopped what they were doing and fell silent as Delia looked down at the full pint in front of her, tapping her fingers nervously on the edge of the table. 

‘Well, go on then, you numpty.’

Delia petulantly stuck her tongue out at Valerie. She looked back down at the pint, inhaling, then exhaling. She then scooped up the pint and swallowed the beer down in one go, draining the glass in the blink of an eye. 

When she slammed the now empty glass down on the table, her eyes immediately went to Patsy whose jaw simply fell open in astonishment. Delia felt a hot blush crawl across her cheeks and she hid her face in her hands. 

‘Bloody brilliant, that is,’ Valerie managed to say. 

The rest of the table went around giving their praises. ‘Never seen a woman do that before.’ ‘I’ve only ever seen that done on telly.’ 

‘Well I for one find that much more entertaining than sticking your tongue to your nose,’ Trixie remarked, daintily sipping from her glass of diet coke. 

‘What about sticking your tongue to other peoples noses?” Valerie queried, leaning forward with her tongue out in Trixie’s direction. The blonde gave a surprised shout and nearly fell off her chair to avoid the woman. 

Lucille lightly hit the back of her hand against Valerie's shoulder. ‘Don’t you flirt with her.’ 

‘Ah, sorry love, you know your nose is the only one I want to lick,’ Valerie said, repeating the same move on Lucille who did not hesitate to block Valerie's advances by firmly planting her open hand on the whole of Valerie's face and pushing her away. 

Amongst the laughter and playful shouting as a lovers row ensued, Delia took the opportunity to escape the group and use the loo. 

When she returned, Lucille and Patsy were chatting animatedly at the table about something or other, and Trixie and Valerie were missing, possibly having a smoke out front. She spotted Barbra at the bar with an empty wine glass, looking expectantly at the bartender who was more enthralled with the football game on the television behind him than serving Barbara a drink. 

‘Having another?’ Delia asked, leaning up against the bar beside Barbara. 

‘Figured one more wouldn’t hurt... if I can get another.’ 

Delia stuck two fingers in her mouth and let out a shrill whistle, making the bartender jump to attention and dash over. They ordered another glass of wine for Barbara, and Delia got herself a moscow mule. Drinks in hand, they turned and leaned against the bar, observing the scene.

An elderly woman with thick glasses and a glass of white wine stood at an electronic jukebox using her pointer finger to swipe through songs. Some rock and roll from the 50’s currently played in the background and Delia suspected this woman was playing DJ, if she didn't think the jukebox was actually a fruit machine by how fervently she scrolled through the colourful records on the screen. Some couples danced, a lone gentleman played darts, and Lucille and Patsy sat side by side at their little table in a heated discussion. 

‘How dare you leave out Childish Gambino,’ Lucille said, appalled. ‘And like, Drake? I mean, come on.’

‘No, Lou, hear me out, MIA’s ‘Paper Planes’ was absolutely the _best_ song of the naughties, and here’s why.’

Patsy downed the last of her whiskey and launched into an impassioned tirade about the cultural significance of the aforementioned song. Lucille, just as passionately, made her case for other artists. 

‘Patsy sounds worked up, doesn’t she?’ 

Delia shrugged. ‘She’s got strong opinions about music.’ 

‘Well she can play guitar, makes sense she knows a thing or two.’ Barbara took a sip of her wine and turned to Delia, leaning in close. ‘And does she like, know that makes her a billion times more attractive?’

Delia leaned back, shocked. ‘Barbara!’ 

‘No, but really,’ Barbara went on, ‘She had to have known that her hotness would skyrocket the moment she strapped that thing on, right?’ 

‘Wow.’ Delia blinked, unable to believe she was hearing Barbara correctly. ‘You’re definitely talking about a guitar, right?’

‘What else would I be talking about?’

‘Erm, nevermind.’ Delia shook her head, though it failed to rid her brain of inappropriate thoughts. ‘Seriously Babs, I never thought you would have noticed something like that.’ 

‘Hey, just because I dont have a sex drive doesn’t mean I cant find a human as… asth…’ 

Barbara blew a raspberry. 

‘Take your time,’ Delia giggled. 

Barbara moved her mouth dramatically to sound out the word she was trying to get out, ‘Aes-thetic-ally pleasing.’ 

‘Ah,’ Delia nodded in understanding, ‘well, in that case I agree.’ 

‘You think she learned just because she wanted to be more attractive to women?’ 

‘Well, from what she’s told me she was only ten when she started, so probably not?’

‘She didn't have to, she’s pretty as she is, you think?’

‘You're really asking me that?' 

‘And she's a doctor. With a house? Delia how is she single?’ 

Delia let out a laugh. ‘You realize I’m also a single doctor, right? It’s not all roses you know. People are complicated and intricate. Patsy is no exception.’ 

‘Yes, Delia, I know. I suppose I can see why you like her so much though.’ 

‘Oh, can you?’

‘Well, I mean, I'm sure all those things help. From everything I know about her I’m not sure why you ever disliked her.’ 

Delia turned back to the bar, feeling guilty. She took a sip of her drink and replied, ‘Actually it was because I didn’t know enough about her initially,’ she admitted, ‘but we’ve had some talks since then and… well…’ 

‘And now you’re madly in love?’

‘I wouldn't say madly…’

Barbara looked back at her with an air of disbelief in her expression. Delia couldn’t help but sigh and give in. 

‘A better word for it would be hopelessly… probably.’ 

‘Well why don't you talk to her?’

‘What, now?’

‘Sure.’

‘I can’t just... ‘

‘Remember what I said earlier?’ 

Delia blinked, her thoughts going back to their conversation on the beach. 

> Barbara looked down, rubbing the back of her neck as she considered Delia’s words. Delia had waited on tenterhooks to hear the woman's thoughts, feeling worried, yet relieved to have gotten everything that had transpired the last few weeks off her chest to _someone_ whom she trusted to keep her story confidential. 
> 
> ‘All I can say is that life’s too short.’ Barbara finally said, ‘I took a chance on Tom and I think…’
> 
> ‘But I’m not in a position to _take a chance_ , Babs, that's the thing. If I fuck this up I feel like it will ruin everything forever.’ 
> 
> ‘You don't understand,’ Barbara interjected, ‘I did this… I went for Tom… knowing it could have really hurt, even ended the relationship I had with Trixie. She’s my best friend and the last thing I wanted to do was hurt her. I would have said no to Tom at the expense of my own happiness if Trixie had even said once that she didn’t want us together.’ 
> 
> Delia took a moment to really listen to Barbara, seeing the pain behind her eyes. How difficult of a decision it must have been to have to have chosen between your best friend and a potential life partner. 
> 
> ‘Your friendship means that much?’ Delia asked. 
> 
> ‘It means the world to me… but,’ Barbara paused, looking down as a wave crawled to shore and washed over their feet. ‘I don’t know Delia. When my mum died, my father became pretty protective of my sister and I. He pulled us out of school and everything and homeschooled us till we were older. I spent just about my whole life being _safe_ to a fault in honour of my mum, but on this… I just had to take a chance on… on falling in love and being with someone who loves me back, I…’ 
> 
> Delia’s heart ached for her friend, who she had never before seen express so passionately her feelings for the man she was with. To have to have taken the chance, the risk of ending one love to be with another must have been a daunting one for someone as thoughtful and caring as Barbara. 
> 
> Delia sighed, and ran her fingers through her hair. ‘Barbara, I… I’m sorry. I had no idea it was so challenging for you and… I’m sorry, I feel like a terrible friend for not noticing…’ 
> 
> ‘Deels, it’s alright,’ she shrugged her shoulders and gave a reassuring smile, ‘everything worked out in the end and, I’m telling you now, aren’t I?’
> 
> ‘I know just…’ Delia held out her hand and Barbara took it, ‘I’ll do a better job of reaching out and checking in… and just know you can always talk to me if you want.’ 
> 
> Barbara grinned brilliantly and looked down. ‘Thanks. I appreciate that, but, well, right now I want to focus on your romantic crisis,’ Barbara teased, giving Delia’s hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. 
> 
> ‘Ugh, _my_ romantic crisis,’ Delia sighed despondently. ‘My situation is a bit different than yours was. The one I love and my best friend are the same person.’
> 
> ‘Feel like that happens a lot with lesbians, but go ahead.’ 
> 
> Delia rolled her eyes, ‘ _Anyway_ , I’m afraid I run the risk of losing both if I’m honest with them about how I really feel.’
> 
> ‘I don’t think that's true at all.’ 
> 
> ‘Really?’ 
> 
> ‘How long have you known this person?’
> 
> ‘A while… we weren't friends at first,’ Delia replied, thinking back to the first time she really met Patsy and the fight they had in the girls loo at school. ‘Actually… when we first met, we had a physical fight, and at the time, I hated them, but now I know them so much better than I did back then and…’ 
> 
> ‘And?’
> 
> ‘And… as we’ve grown closer, I can see how much they've changed. How they've grown and how decent of a person they've become. They've turned into… just the kind of person I can see myself being with. Or… maybe they’ve always been that way and I’m finally opening my eyes to it…’ 
> 
> Delia sighed. While it felt good to relay all these feelings to a friend, it dawned on her that there was still the possibility that what she wanted might never come to fruition, and it filled her with a deep sadness that she tried in vain to push away. 
> 
> ‘I’ve never felt closer to anyone in my life,’ she continued. ‘The only problem is… well.’
> 
> ‘You don’t want to ruin it,’ Barbara chimed in. 
> 
> ‘Yeah.’ 
> 
> ‘Would you still be their friend if you told them how you felt, and they turned you down?’
> 
> ‘Absolutely,’ Delia replied without hesitation, ‘I mean, it would be hard, but at this point I simply can’t imagine my life without them in it in some capacity.’ 
> 
> ‘Well now I want to ask if you think _they’d_ still want to be your friend after you told them your feelings.’ 
> 
> Delia scrunched her eyebrows in thought. ‘...Oh.’ 
> 
> Would she? Would Patsy still want to be her friend even if she told her she had romantic feelings for her? Delia thought of how hard it was for Patsy to open up to people, and thought that just maybe the answer was yes. She wondered if Patsy would really just give up on their relationship after everything they had been through. She hoped not. 
> 
> ‘I… I think so.’ 
> 
> ‘Then what makes you think you would lose them?’ Barbara asked. ‘You come clean about your feelings and if they don't feel the same you still have your friend. Better yet, they return your feelings and you go off and live happily ever after.’ 
> 
> Delia smiled, ‘Like you and Tom and Trixie, eh?’ 
> 
> Barbara smiled, and looked past Delia to the blonde who had returned to their little spot on the beach and was now chatting with Patsy under the umbrella. 
> 
> ‘It was hard for me to tell Trixie about Tom and I, but now I’m glad I took that chance. I’m with the man I love and I still have my best friend in my life. I think about my mum sometimes, when things get hard and I just have to remember that.. life is short. You have to take a chance sometimes because, you know, you don’t want to spend the rest of your life wondering _what if_.’ 
> 
> ‘Still…’ 
> 
> ‘Deels, is this someone you would come out to your parents for?’ 
> 
> A fantasy flashed through Delia’s mind of bringing Patsy home for Christmas dinner, dressed in cozy sweaters sipping tea by the fire and exchanging gifts. It made her heart melt at the thought and she looked down, smiling bashfully. 
> 
> ‘I’ll take the look on your face as a yes.’
> 
> Delia blinked back to the moment, realizing she had been a million miles away. ‘Yeah.’ 
> 
> ‘You’ve got it bad for her, hmm? Patsy?’ 
> 
> Delia gulped, looking guilty. Apparently Barbara was much more perceptive than she thought.
> 
> ‘Is it that obvious?’ 
> 
> ‘Well, in normal circumstances, very. Though I seem to be the only one here who isn’t completely distracted to notice in some way shape or form. Don't worry though,’ Barbara mimed zipping her lips shut and Delia gave a sigh of relief. 

‘Yes, I remember what you said,’ Delia replied, swirling her drink in her hand as her eyes lingered on Patsy laughing heartily. It was a wonder to her how anyone could look so naturally beautiful. 

‘God your situation reminds me of a song.’ 

‘Uh oh.’ 

‘Some powerful feminist ballad from the 90s.’ 

‘OK Babs,’ Delia held out her hands, cringing as the tipsy woman dramatically broke out into song. 

‘What's it gonna be? 'cause I can't pretend’ Barbara sang, clutching her glass of wine close, ‘Don't you wanna be, more than friends?’ 

‘I would have never pegged you as an En Vogue fan,’ Delia quipped, hoping she wasn’t attracting too much attention.

Barbara wrapped her arms around herself and continued, ‘Hold me tight and don't let gooo, don't let go!’ 

‘Oh, god, OK Barabra,’ Delia placed her hands pleadingly on the woman's shoulders and hoping she’d stop.

The two women shushed as the subject of their conversation walked up just then and placed several empty glasses on the bar. 

‘Hi.’ Patsy smiled at them. ‘Thought I’d tidy the table a bit. Alright?’ she asked, raising an eyebrow at the two. Delia realized how their sudden silence might have looked suspicious. 

The bartender approached and leaned forward. ‘What can I get ya?’ 

‘Probably just water for now,’ she said, and the bartender nodded, filling a glass with a slice of lemon.

Barbara elbowed Delia during this exchange, and Delia replied silently, giving a warning glare to Barbara, who promptly rolled her eyes. 

‘Patsy, would you like to dance?’ Barbara offered. 

Patsy gave an amused smirk as she sipped her water, ‘With you Barbara? Of course.’ She extended her hand and Barbara took it, giving an eye to Delia who remained leaned up against the bar, feeling rather annoyed at the brunette just now as she was whisked the short distance to the floor with the other dancing couples. 

‘I have to warn you, I’m a terrible dancer,’ Barbara cringed a bit as Patsy placed a hand on her hip. 

Van Morrison's _Brown Eyed Girl_ began to play and Patsy beamed. 

‘I wouldn’t worry, think this song is within your realm.’ 

She held out her other hand and Barbara took it, and Patsy directed Barbara to sway from side to side, turning slowly in a circle. 

Barbara seemed to enjoy herself but Delia was still leaning up against the bar, feeling thoroughly annoyed. She sipped her drink and tried not to think too much into it. Barbara was just trying to prove a point, after all. 

‘You’re doing alright so far,’ Delia heard Patsy remark. 

‘Oh, swaying back and forth is one thing. Anything beyond that and I’d probably hurt myself, and you.’ 

‘I can teach you if you like.’ 

‘Maybe not after I’ve had as much wine as I’ve had, but I’d love to have a lesson or two from you when we get back to London.’ 

‘It’d be my pleasure.’ 

‘Maybe Delia too? She’s a pretty good dancer but could use some help.’ 

From the bar, Delia’s jaw dropped open in astonishment overhearing this. Barbara was quite the sly matchmaker!

‘You think you could teach her a thing or two here?’ Barbara challenged. 

‘I could try?’ Patsy grinned, thoroughly amused, ‘Though I think she’s fairly competent.’ 

Barbara pulled away from Patsy and looked to Delia, nodding her head. ‘Well, you heard the woman, get over here. ‘

‘She doesn’t want to dance with me,’ Delia insisted. 

‘Not true,’ Patsy replied, then looked up and around, rubbing the back of her neck. ‘Well I mean, only if you want to.’ 

Delia couldn’t resist with her looking so adorable. She wanted to wrap her arms around that woman and hold her tight. She turned back to the bar and downed the rest of her drink, sliding her empty cup across the bar before she made her way to Patsy. 

Barbara moved to pick up her glass of wine from the bar and made her way to the table, eyeing Delia as she allowed for Patsy to take her in her arms. 

The song had changed over before Delia knew it, and found herself falling into a rather natural rhythm 

_My cherie amour, lovely as a summer's day_

_My cherie amour, distant as the Milky Way_

_My cherie amour, pretty little one that I adore_

_You're the only girl my heart beats for_

_How I wish that you were mine_

She hadn’t danced with someone like this since university in such close proximity with other dancers that they had little choice but to hold one another close and simply sway from side to side. Then again, Delia was wracked with nerves and preferred the simple movements. She heard Patsy sigh and was curious to know what was on the woman's mind. 

‘Penny for them?’

Patsy seemed to hem and haw over telling her what was on her mind. 

‘Out with it, or I squish a toe,’ she teased. 

Patsy chuckled and relented. ‘Deels, I feel like a bloody cad.’ 

Delia quirked an eyebrow. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘Oh, I just…’ Patsy paused to collect herself, a Delia hung onto her next words with bated breath. 

_Maybe someday you'll see my face among the crowd_

_Maybe someday I'll share your little distant cloud_

_Oh, cherie amour, pretty little one that I adore_

‘I was thinking about earlier,’ Patsy continued, ‘when I was just unloading all my baggage-’

‘Luggage’

‘-right, luggage, onto you. I just wanted to thank you again for listening and to tell you…’

_You're the only girl my heart beats for_

_How I wish that you were mine_

Delia’s eyes widened, and she focused intently on Patsy’s next words, thinking that she might be in store for some sort of overwhelming romantic confession that would not only make her want to throw her arms around the woman and kiss her senseless, but save her the time and effort of confessing her feelings herself!

‘Well,’ Patsy finally continued, ‘I think you have nice arms, too.’ 

When the words finally registered, Delia broke out into a laugh and bumped her forehead against Patsy's shoulder. ‘Just how much have you had to drink?’ 

‘Fuck, I mean like, you just… you’ve… you’ve got great…’ 

‘What, limbs?’ Delia grinned.

‘Well, yeah, and I mean… Bloody hell. I’m fucking this up aren’t I? You think I’d know how to give someone a bloody compliment by now.’ 

‘No, do go on,’ Delia grinned, enjoying seeing Patsy all flustered. 

‘I was just…’

‘You think I look nice?’ 

‘So nice,’ Patsy breathed, seeming relieved to have finally gotten her point across. 

‘Well I’m glad _someone_ finally said something,’ Delia smiled, somewhat deflecting from her true feelings and trying to lighten her mood with humour. ‘Got all dolled up and everything, I expect a compliment or two.’

‘Sorry to have kept you waiting all evening, though Lucille did say you looked cute in your dress.’

‘No, she said _we_ look cute.’ 

‘Well she was certainly right about that,’ Patsy replied smartly, ‘Shall I give you more compliments? Specifically tailored to you, of course.’

Delia couldn’t stop smiling. 'I wouldn't say no to that.’ 

‘Hmm, alright, let me think,’ Patsy looked up contemplatively, ‘I think you’re very classy, a wonderful cook with an amazing palate, a damn good doctor, great sense of humour.’

‘Patsy,' Delia giggled, suddenly feeling terribly shy at all this positive attention. 

‘You have a great sense of style, too,’ Patsy went on, not listening to Delia’s soft plea, ‘this dress for example, fits you wonderfully. Bright colours suit you, too.’

Delia felt herself blush, a little flustered that Patsy even noticed. ‘Oh, this wrinkly old piece of cloth? I literally just threw this on. Was all I packed for a night out and didn't think much of it.’ 

‘Well you wear it very well.’ 

‘Yeah?’

‘Oh certainly. You’d turn my head walking down the street wearing a dress like this,’ Patsy replied, unconsciously running her fingers up and down the back of Delia's arms. ‘Especially with you showing off these arms of yours. They’re bloody gorgeous.’ 

Delia could hardly believe her, and eyed her suspiciously. ‘You're having me on.'

'No, truly.'

'I’m a cyclist, Pats,' Delia said dismissively, 'I don’t focus on my arms much, but I suppose I should start. I don't like them very much.’ 

‘Oh well now that is a shame.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I like them quite a bit,’ Patsy said softly, gently grazing her fingers along the undersides of Delia's arms. The sensation made her break out into goosebumps. 

‘Stop,’ she said, giving a smirk. 

‘No really,’ Patsy smiled. 

‘No, they’re…’

‘They’re perfect,’ Patsy finished for her, placing her hand on the back of Delia’s left arm and gently guiding it around her shoulders. ‘See? These are definitely arms anyone would want wrapped around them.’ 

She held Delia’s eye for only a moment before she broke out into a shy smile and tightened her hold on the small of Delia’s back. 

Patsy looked at her like she was precious. 

It was that look in her eyes that made Delia think that maybe she wasn’t imagining things. That maybe Patsy had feelings for her, too. That maybe she ought to finally say something, and she had enough booze in her system to actually gather the courage to do it. 

'Hey, Pats,' Delia managed weakly, her fleeting confidence replaced with nerves. 

'Hmm?' 

'There's been something on my mind…’

‘Oh?’

‘Yeah…’ Delia stalled, memories flashing through her mind in an instant of when her feelings began to truly change for Patsy. When Patsy told her about her family, or, no, before, at the party? Mabe when they planted the garden together, or rather before then, when Patsy helped her after that silly bike accident in the spring. 

Despite all these thoughts flashing through her mind, Delia couldn’t think of what to say. She could hardly think at all anymore with Patsy pressed so close to her, everything about Patsy filling her senses, how she smelled and how warm she felt. It was rather encouraging to see that Patsy was similarly affected when she felt the taller woman wrap a lock of her brunette hair around her finger. 

_Kissing you_ , Delia thought, _Kissing you has been on my mind. Holding you like this and loving you. Taking care of you.... Oh how I want you and all of you._

‘Um, hey guys…’

Valerie's nervous remark cut through Delia’s thoughts, and she needed to blink herself back to where they were, dancing amongst the crowd. 

Except no one was dancing anymore, several women were clutching their chest and gasping at the sight in front of them. 

Delia whirled around to see Trixie holding a distraught Barbara, drunkenly babbling her apologies to a gentleman sitting against the wall with his mate. His unfortunate spot near the dart board had him on the receiving end of what Delia could only assume was a rogue dart thrown by none other than their darling drunken Barbara.

‘Look, I don’t know who let her get near the darts, but I figured, you know, being the medical professionals we are, we should help the poor bloke get that thing out his shoulder.’ 

The man with the dart sticking proudly from his shoulder simply looked from the thing to Barbara, and shrugged. ‘No harm done, love. Tis but a scratch,’ he said, breaking out into an uproarious laugh, looking to his similarly drunk friends for validation that his comment was amusing. 

Delia hung her head and sighed, ‘Oh, Barbara…’

‘...you pillock,’ Patsy finished for her. It was quiet enough for only Delia to hear, but she couldn’t have agreed more. 

* * *

Later that evening, Delia found herself in bed with the lamp on, trying to read her book but she was only managing to read the same line over and over again. She was too riled up after the evening she had with everyone, and quite honestly, she couldn’t believe that she was finally sharing a bed with Patsy. 

Ideally, it would have been _after_ she confessed her feelings for her, but she had been robbed of the chance by the very woman who pushed her to do so. She wondered what would have happened if she had a chance to talk with Patsy about how she felt. Patsy _might_ have returned her feelings and they _might_ have been kissing and cuddling now and a bunch of other wonderful things that Delia tried not to think about, lest she get herself even more worked up than she already was and forego sleep for the _entire_ night. But she had been interrupted, and any conversation they would have had on the matter would have to wait for another time. 

She was a little sad about it, but nonetheless was enjoying the feeling of Patsy so close to her now, and enjoying the sight of the woman laying beside her in a loose shirt and shorts, her hair down, and clutching her pillow in her arms. 

Delia flipped a page in her book, and felt Patsy shift slightly. 

‘Hey, Deels?’ came the redhead's sleepy voice. 

‘Hmm?’

‘I forgot to ask you something earlier.’ 

‘What’s that?’

‘Was wondering when you learned that fancy party trick of yours.’ 

Delia closed her eyes and sighed, trying to ignore Patsy chuckling at her reaction next to her.

‘Technically when I was a kid,’ Delia admitted. 

‘Who was letting you drink beer back then?’

‘No one, you goof,’ Delia gently swatted Patsy on the top of her head with her paperback. ‘My mam made me take singing lessons all through primary school. Learned how to better control the muscles in my throat and all that. Figured out later in life I could relax my throat when I needed a quick drink and just… gulp it all down in one go.’ 

‘Bet that was one way to impress your friends in the canteen.’

‘Certainly was, though I stopped once the boys began to make rather crass suggestions. 

Delia could see Patsy beside her scowl, her eyebrows furrowing, ‘Eww.’

‘Yeah, I know, secondary school boys are errible.’

‘I know, makes me glad I was never fussed about them.’ 

Delia looked down at her curiously now, wondering. ‘Did you ever like boys? Have you always known you were gay?’

‘Haven’t always known, but I certainly never fancied any of the boys I was around in school.’ 

‘Well what happened? How did you know?’

Oh… you know.’ Patsy shrugged nonchalantly. ‘I kissed a girl and I liked it.’ 

Delia thought that Patsy was being rather vague but decided not to comment on it. ‘Ah, well, that’ll do it.’ 

‘How about you? Have you always known?’

‘Hmm… not quite. You remember back at that school there was a rugby team?’

Patsy sighed, ‘No. Suppose when I stopped bothering you I began to focus on my A-levels. Didn’t give much thought to anything else then.’ 

Delia smirked. With everything she knew now about Patsy, with everything she had come to understand, it no longer seemed to bother her, those memories. It was unfortunate, it hurt, and it was certainly wrong, but Delia had finally forgiven the 17 year old Patsy who had just gone through something so traumatic. She saw her now as the loving and caring friend and woman lying next to her. 

‘Makes sense,’ she replied with a sigh. ‘In the spring of my first year I joined the girls rugby team. Think it was all that physical contact that awoke something in me. Made me realize that I might have liked wrestling with women in the bedroom as well as the field.’ 

The two shared a laugh, and Delia’s mind came back to the evening they had just shared, blushing at the thought of Patsy’s reaction to her secret talent. 

‘I couldn't tell if you were impressed or horrified back at the pub,’ she remarked. 

‘Definitely not horrified, and don’t worry, I’ll never tell your mum.’

‘Thanks.’ 

‘ _Some_ people in this bedroom can keep a secret.’ 

Deila tisked, ‘OK, first of all she forced it out of me. What did you want me to do, lie? Tell her you can belch the alphabet or something?’

Patsy gave a sleepy noncommittal grunt and rolled over, settling in under the duvet. It was only when Patsy stopped moving did it occur to Delia how even the slightest infraction of her trust might become an issue. 

‘I would never tell her anything you truly wanted to keep secret, Pats,’ she said quickly.

‘I know…’ Patsy trailed off, her voice soft and sounding far away. 

Delia worried for a moment that she had really hurt her feelings, but was relieved when Patsy turned back towards her. 

‘Hey, Deels?”

‘Yeah?’

‘When we were dancing… were you going to tell me something?’

Delia sighed. As much as she would have loved to take _this_ moment, a _quiet_ moment where she actually had Patsy alone with little distractions, she could see the woman was barely able to keep her eyes open. 

Delia reckoned she could wait. Just a little longer. 

‘I was, but it can wait,’ she replied, ‘I can see that you’re tired.’ 

‘You sure?’

‘Yeah,’ Delia replied softly, unable to help herself as she reached out and ran her fingers through Patsy’s soft red hair. ‘Go to sleep.’ 

‘Feels good,’ Patsy mumbled sleepily. 

Delia smiled and continued to gently stroke Patsy’s hair, the book in her lap as good as forgotten. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be honest, how many of you stuck your tongue out to try and touch your nose? How many of you were successful? 
> 
> OK, so who is ready for them to get on with it, eh? We're 16 chapters in an only one kiss so far, that's no good. If you were looking for some pupcake and for this story to finally live up to it's 'E' rating then I hope you tune in for the next chapter. Until then, though it might seems like we are living in a snow globe of terrible news and events happening all around the world, I hope you all are safe where you are and taking care of yourselves. 
> 
> OH MY GOD ALSO
> 
> We are having a zoom call open to all readers to come hang out and talk pupcake and CTM with us (and by 'us' I mean me, Jojo, SuperBanana, and others). Everyone reading this is welcome to come and chime in and partake. Details below. Hope you can make it! 
> 
> Topic: AO3 Pupcake zoomies  
> Time: Oct 11, 2020 08:00 PM London
> 
> Join Zoom Meeting  
> https://us04web.zoom.us/j/77582794550?pwd=Zk02cEp5YkhwS1VQY2kzTEpWcGw0Zz09
> 
> Meeting ID: 775 8279 4550  
> Passcode: 4gTcTC


	17. Well I Wonder - Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘I’m sorry it took me so long to get here.'
> 
> ‘Where’s here?’ 
> 
> ‘Here. With you.’

Delia woke to the sound of a squeaky window opening, a cool breeze meeting her cheek, and the smell of salt water. She reached up and rubbed her eyes, blinking. As her eyes adjusted, Patsy’s dark figure came into focus. The taller woman sat down on the other side of the bed, taking a sip of water before placing the glass on the bedside table. 

Delia slowly sat up on her elbows, her eyes adjusting to the dim glow from the moonlight. ‘You alright?’ she whispered. 

‘Yeah, just restless. Can’t sleep,’ Patsy replied quietly, wrapping her arms around her knees.

‘What's the matter?’

‘Oh, nothing.’ Patsy tried to smile. ‘Happens sometimes after I’ve been drinking. Just feel like all the gears in my head are turning at full speed. Can’t shut it off and relax.’ 

‘That doesn’t sound like nothing.’ 

‘Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry, you should try to go back to sleep.’ 

Delia watched as Patsy sighed through her nose, reaching up to squeeze her shoulder. 

‘Is your neck still bothering you?’ she asked. 

‘A little.’ 

Delia sat up fully and pushed away the duvet, crossing her legs. Before Patsy could say anything, Delia reached out and grabbed her by her pyjama top, making the woman lay down with her head in her lap. Delia could sense the action made Patsy uncomfortable. Her shoulders were tense, her whole body seemed stiff. 

‘Try and relax,’ Delia said quietly, ‘Deep breaths. In and out. Listen to the ocean…’ 

Patsy did as instructed, closing her eyes and breathing deep through her nose as Delia took her thumb and pressed down hard on her shoulder, applying that pressure up through her neck and repeating. 

‘There? Think I feel a knot.’ 

‘Yeah. I have a heating pad at home. Didn't think to bring it.’

‘You usually have problems here?’

‘Mostly from sitting typing at a desk,’ Patsy replied feebly, covering her eyes with her hand.

‘Am I hurting you?

Patsy cracked a smile, ‘No, I’m just not used to all this attention.’ 

Delia bit her lip, trying in vain not to smile in return. She knew her intention was to help Patsy, but her ulterior motive was to use any excuse to put her hands on the woman, and she wasn’t going to apologize for it. 

'I don’t mind giving it,’ Delia replied quietly. ‘Besides, you sometimes get this far off look in your eyes and it makes me want to reach out and bring you back here.’ 

‘Got a lot on my mind, I suppose. I’m sorry.’

‘You can stop saying sorry, Patsy.’

‘Can I?’ 

Delia paused at the response, which seemed rather loaded. She had meant that Patsy could stop saying sorry right then in that moment, but did Patsy's response mean something different? Delia had to think hard, muddling through her tired mind to remind herself that she and Patsy had taken a long journey just to get here to this moment. Even though Delia had felt terrible about her behaviour weeks ago, it occurred to her that she never really told Patsy that she was over it, that she had gotten the closure she needed to get over her resentment she held from back then. 

‘Yes,’ she replied firmly. ‘If you think I’m still upset with you for… anything, I’m not. Not any more.’ Delia paused to take a breath, she bent forward, nearly pressing her lips to Patsy’s ear. ‘I forgive you.’ 

Finally, Patsy gave a genuine smile, letting out a breath of air like she had been holding it for some time. She seemed relieved, and relaxed in Delia’s arms. 

As Patsy shyly bowed her head, Delia needed to restrain herself from leaning forward those few centimeters to press her mouth against the back of her neck, and feel that warm skin and those soft wisps of hair against her lips.

Delia leaned back, removing herself from the temptation and decided to try and get back to the task at hand. Quite literally at hand as she pressed firmly at the base of Patsy’s neck again. . 

‘Think you might be working too much?’ Delia asked, trying to sound casual, though her pulse was pounding in her ears.

‘Um…’ Patsy’s voice wavered slightly, and it seemed she needed a moment to bring herself back to what they had been talking about before. ‘A-all the time. I don’t know what else to do with myself though.’

‘You’ve got a garden now, don't you?’

Patsy hummed tiredly. ‘It’s no fun without you there to help.’ 

Delia let herself smile this time. ‘Was thinking the same thing. I’ve been missing our Sundays together.’

‘Me too.’ Patsy sighed again as Delia pushed her thumb firmly over her neck. ‘Will you help me take care of the garden?’

Delia felt hope blossom in her heart at the prospect of spending time with Patsy in the garden. Spending time with her in general.

‘Only if I can take care of you too,’ she replied, then froze, wondering if saying something like that was a step too far. Then again, it was the middle of the night and she had Patsy in her arms and the sound of her gentle sighs filling her ears. She had been longing for a moment to hold her like this and she quite honestly never wanted it to end. 

If Delia hadn’t been listening intently for Patsy to reply, she wouldn’t have heard it, but just ever so quietly, Patsy said, ‘You want to?’

‘Yeah,’ Delia sighed, replying without hesitation, and honestly relief. ‘Will you let me?’

Patsy turned and faced Delia, still resting on her lap. She wrapped her arms around her waist and forced Delia to lay down, their feet against the pillows. Delia made no qualms about it as she felt Patsy firmly wrap her arms around her waist and nuzzle her head against her chest. Delia couldn't help but giggle. 

‘Only if you let me do the same,’ Patsy finally replied. 

‘Deal.’ 

Delia ran firm fingers through Patsy’s red hair, enjoying the feeling of the warm weight of her head against her chest and the smell of her hair. She had to resist the urge to kiss the top of her head. She could feel Patsy entangle their legs together and palm her one free hand over her hip and back. Even in the sleepless haze of the very early morning, she could sense that Patsy was holding back. 

‘Patsy would you mind…’

Patsy stopped her motions. ‘Hmm?’

‘What you’re doing feels amazing.'

'But?' 

'But could you… under my shirt…' 

Patsy’s fingers found their way under Delia’s top and lightly scratched the skin underneath. ‘Like this?’

Delia sighed at the feeling of nails against her skin, lightly running from between her shoulders and down her back. ‘Yeah…’ 

The sensation made a shiver run down her spine and she could feel the skin of her arms rise in little bumps. 

It would be just too easy to take Patsy's hand and guide it towards the front of her body, cup her breast… 

Delia shook her head in an attempt to rid herself of such thoughts. It was hard though, as being so close to Patsy, being wrapped up in her arms and having her hands on her was really turning her on. She so badly wanted Patsy to touch her but she certainly wasn't going to force anything. Earlier that evening Delia had thought that Patsy might have returned her feelings for her, but she didn't want to risk making any moves lest she was wrong about it all. She resolved to wait and actually talk to Patsy about how she felt before she let things go further than this. 

'Sorry, am I tickling you?' 

'No, no, you're fine.' Delia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. 'How are you feeling?'

'Much better,' Patsy sighed, nuzzling her head a little more against Delia's chest. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks at how adorable Patsy was being right now, and she worked fervently to try and tamp down the rising desire to do something more. 

'Good. Try to get some rest.'

Delia breathed and tried to do the same. She continued to hold Patsy tight, her whole body thrumming pleasantly at the contact, at the feeling of being held like this. Delia was going to tell her. Tomorrow. She was going to do it, damn it. She couldn't live like this much longer. 

It didn't take long for Patsy's hand to come to a stop and rest on her hip, the woman's breathing growing heavy and rhythmic. Delia too closed her eyes, allowing for the scent of Patsy and the sound of the waves in the distance to lure her to sleep.

* * *

A cool breeze against her legs sent a shiver up Patsy’s spine. The sounds of birds chirping and waves crashing against the shore brought her back to the world of the waking, but a throbbing pain at her temples kept her from opening her eyes too quickly. Memories from the night before flooded to the forefront of her mind and she recalled the events that lead to this headache. Too much whiskey. She moved her legs and realized they were dangling off the end of the bed. How had that happened? Did she wake in the middle of the night to use the loo and collapsed back? Without bothering with the covers? Speaking of, where was she? Patsy reached an arm above her head and realized she was far away from any pillows. She felt a knee though. The back of her hand moved down and grazed along what felt like a soft thigh, then a hip. A sharp breath in her ear made Patsy turn her head slowly, and her face was suddenly engulfed in a loose t-shirt that was warm and smelled really really good. Smelled like Delia. 

In an instant, Patsy remembered just where she was, and who she was with, and while having her face where it was was certainly pleasant in the moment, she was pretty sure she was not meant to be this close and snuggly with Delia!

Patsy pulled away and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, moving to get up. She was surprised when she was stopped. All for the best really, she thought, as the moment she tried to sit up her head began to spin. A firm, yet gentle hand pulled her back down to the bed and she remained still. 

However, she was starving, her head hurt, and she really needed to brush her teeth. 

‘We should get up…’ Patsy said feebly, dreading the thought, but she needed to rip the plaster off and work on curing this hangover. A plate of toast and baked beans and the sausages she knew were in the fridge were calling to her. 

A tired, cute whine emanated from Delia that made Patsy’s cheeks tinge an extra dark shade of pink. And then, gentle fingers curling through her hair. 

A deep breath, and then softly in her ear, ‘Just a little longer, angel.’ 

Patsy was almost ashamed at how viscerally her body reacted to the small little plea, soft and warm and accentuated by that cute welsh lilt that made her grateful she was already laying down. Was she ready to concede defeat so early in the morning? To do just about anything Delia wanted or desired? Probably. Especially if just laying there was all she needed from Patsy, since laying there was all Patsy had the energy to do in the moment. 

Delia continued to stroke her hair, and Patsy found it very appropriate that Delia quite literally had her wrapped around her fingers. 

* * *

‘Wow.’ 

Patsy could hardly hear the sound of Delia’s voice over the wind howling in her ears, but it was loud enough for her to look over at the woman who was looking out over the crest of the hill and out to the sea. The wind whipped her hair about, and Patsy watched as Delia brought a hand to her face to move her hair out of her eyes, the motion only capturing more of Patsy’s attention. 

A few hours earlier when they finally rose for the day, they soon realized they had woken to an empty house. A text from Trixie indicated that she and Barbara had headed into town for some shopping while Val and Lucille decided on a breakfast in a cafe for just the two of them, leaving Patsy and Delia with the house all to themselves for the morning. 

Patsy would have celebrated that fact if it weren’t for her hangover. Delia was quick to jump in when she saw Patsy pulling out just about all the ingredients to make a Full English. 

‘Out,’ she demanded, bumping her hip into Patsy’s to gently push her away from the stove, 'Make yourself a strong cup of coffee and take a paracetamol. I’ve got it from here.’ 

Patsy watched as the woman expertly cracked open an egg with one hand and lay down a strip of bacon on the cast iron with the other. Everything sizzled loudly and filled the kitchen with a smell that had Patsy’s stomach growling. 

‘Are you sure?’ Patsy asked, her eyes following Delia’s skilled hands as another egg was cracked into the pan. ‘Just yesterday you were telling Val you were on holiday and not interested in cooking.’ 

‘I’ll make an exception for you, Pats,’ Delia winked, ‘especially if you do the washing up. Now what did Trixie say the other day? Right, scoot your boot!’

Patsy felt a wooden spoon lightly wap her on the bum and she hightailed it out of Delia’s way. She tried to focus on making coffee and not think about how if it was anyone other than Delia she would perceive something like that as flirting. Then again, Delia _could_ be flirting with her. 

Patsy racked her brain for activities from the night before. All the glances she caught Delia giving her, all the attention, the dancing and the laughing, and did she say she had nice arms? Didn’t she just cuddle with her and call her angel?! That was definitely flirting, right?!

Patsy raised a questioning eyebrow and looked up in thought as she turned on the coffee pot. Do women normally act like that with people who were just friends? Patsy thought about her relationship with every other woman in that house, and Vanessa. She never cuddled with any of them, never gave them pet names, so she could safely say the answer was ‘no’. Maybe Delia was just an affectionate person? Patsy again scanned her memories for all of Delia’s interactions with her friends and came up with nothing that would indicate the moment they had last night dancing and just this morning was something she shared with her friends on a regular basis.

The smile Delia gave her as she handed the woman a mug of fresh coffee indicated to Patsy that maybe Delia held her in higher regard than the others? Especially now that they’d had a chance to talk the day before and clear the air and… and… 

A soft memory from the wee hours of the morning popped into Patsy’s head. One where Patsy had her head in Delia’s lap and Delia was whispering into her ear. Delia said… she said…

_I forgive you_

Patsy swallowed the lump rising in her throat at the memory, once again feeling like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She felt light and airy and like she could really smile again around Delia, and not have some cloud hanging over her. 

Patsy was further encouraged as they sat at the table and ate their breakfast and discussed potential plans for the day. One look outside and a check of the temperature on their phones deemed it a touch too chilly for another day on the beach. 

‘It’s too bad I don’t have my bike,’ Delia sighed. ‘Weather’s perfect for a ride.’ 

‘How about we go for a hike?’ Patsy suggested. ‘Reckon there’s plenty of trails out here and the fresh air might help my hangover.’ 

‘Grand idea,’ Delia mused behind her mug of coffee, ‘Would be nice to spend the morning just the two of us.’ 

Patsy's heart thumped excitedly in her chest. ‘Oh would it?’

‘Oh, well, I mean,’ Delia suddenly looked very flustered and Patsy couldn’t help but crack a smirk, ‘the others are usually so noisy and talkative.’

‘That so?’ she asked, unable to help herself as the next bit came out of her mouth, ‘Not because you prefer having me all to yourself?’ 

Patsy watched Delia nearly choke on her mouthful of coffee and she smugly waited for the coughing fit to be over before Delia finally replied with tears in her eyes. ‘Yes. Are you quite finished?’

Before she knew it, Delia had grabbed her empty plate and was walking it to the sink. 

Patsy rose from her seat. ‘Thought I was going to be doing the washing up!’ 

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Delia said, still blushing profusely as she turned on the water. ‘Why don’t you go and get ready and I’ll clean up in here.’ 

Patsy didn’t argue, and instead dressed in the time it took for Delia to tidy up. She decided to make up the difference by packing them a picnic of cold fruits, cheese, nuts and olives, and a few slices of baguette to nibble on whenever they decided to rest on their hike. She grabbed a rucksack and added a blanket, and Delia appeared from the bedroom just as she finished filling their water bottles. 

They found a trail map tucked in one of the kitchen drawers along with a pile of old flyers from take away restaurants, and headed off. 

Now, about an hour later, with the breakfast and exercise and fresh air Patsy was feeling much more herself, her good mood only getting better with each passing moment she spent with Delia. The views of the cliffs along the shore with the vast ocean disappearing over the horizon were only accentuated by the gorgeous woman in front of her. 

Delia looked back at her and smiled. ‘Stunning, isn’t it?’

Patsy nodded, but it took a moment for her to realize Delia was talking about the view. 

Needing an excuse to look away, Patsy led the way down a path marked by an arrow that said Bennett’s Mouth and Lee, where they continued walking downhill through a wooded area for a time until they reached the beach at the bottom. She and Delia took a moment to lay out their blanket together before taking a few moments to explore the rocky beach. 

With the nimbleness of a mountain goat, Delia climbed up a rather harrowing boulder and perched on top, the wind whipping her hair about as she brought a hand over her eyes and looked out onto the horizon. 

Delia looked so cute that Patsy couldn’t help the words that came out of her mouth. ‘Can I take your picture?’ she called up to her. 

Delia smiled shyly from her place high above. ‘Sure.’ She gave a cheesy grin, placing her hands on her hips as her legs dangled over the edge of the rock. Patsy snapped a photo and looked down at it on her phone. Well, tried to look at it. The sunlight was creating too much of a contrast on the screen. 

‘Pats!’

Patsy looked back up at Delia, only to see her own phone pointed at her. 

‘Hey!’ Patsy shouted. 

‘Now I have one of you!’ 

‘You cheeky-’ 

‘Come up here so we can take one together.’

‘Oh I’m not coming up there,’ Patsy chided, her eyes scaling the height of the boulder. 

Delia pointed her phone out towards the sea and snapped a few more photos. ‘But the view is stunning!’ 

‘I’m not as naturally athletic as you. I’ll fall and break my arse or something trying to climb that thing!’ Patsy retorted.

‘Oh fine,’ Delia resigned, moving to come back down. ‘That’s the last thing I would want to put in harms way as it is’ 

Patsy merely raised an eyebrow, wondering if she heard the woman correctly as she watched her carefully climb down the boulder. 

‘Now can we take a photo together?’ 

‘I don’t have one of those selfie sticks, but my arms might be long enough.’ 

Patsy held the phone above them at a distance long enough to capture a bit of the cliffs behind them. She tried to ignore how lovely it felt to have Delia playfully wrap her arms around her waist 

Delia looked up at her excitedly. ‘I think I spotted something while I was up there.’ 

‘Hmm?’ Patsy looked out onto the water, ‘Did you see whales or something?’

‘No, Pats,’ Delia replied, untangling her arms and walking back towards the rock. ‘Unfortunately I can't see my home country from here.’

Patsy stifled a laugh, turning towards her, ‘No, I meant-’

‘Look,’ Delia crouched down on a large rock, pointing to a divot that had a puddle of seawater resting in it. 

Patsy followed and crouched down beside her, leaning close to see what she was pointing at, and saw perfectly rounded oyster shells. ‘Oh!’

‘They must have washed in with the tide overnight.’ Delia reached in and held one in the palm of her hand to observe closely. She reached in for another. ‘What d’you reckon, should we keep them?’ 

Patsy smiled. ‘Would be a lovely keepsake.’ 

Delia held it up in the sunlight and closed one eye, observing. ‘Never seen one so perfect.’ 

Patsy took the opportunity to snap another picture of her. 

‘Hey,’ Delia chided when she noticed. 

Patsy shrugged, ignoring the rising heat in her cheeks. ‘You looked cute. Now hold them up so I can get a good shot.’ 

Smiling rather bashfully, Delia did as instructed and held out the oyster shells in her hand for Patsy to get a decent shot, then up against her eyes as if she were wearing glasses, grinning like a goof as Patsy took a photo. 

‘Now let me get a few of you. Here,’ Delia said, handing over the oyster shells. Patsy obliged, holding one up against her mouth with her eyes wide. 

‘Cute,’ Delia said, snapping a photo. 

‘Here,’ Patsy said, handing Delia one of the oyster shells. ‘One for each of us, yeah?’

Delia pouted, ‘Aw, don’t you think they should stay together?’ 

Patsy smirked, thinking Delia was being terribly cute. She held out her hand. ‘Very well, I’ll keep them safe in my pocket for now.’ 

Patsy stood as she pocketed the oyster shells, and stifled a yawn. 

Delia rose from her spot as well. ‘Alright?’

‘Yeah, just a bit knackered after that walk,’ Patsy admitted. 

‘I imagine so,’ Delia replied, making her way towards their blanket. ‘Suppose waking in the middle of the night like you did doesn’t help either.’ 

Patsy felt a twinge of guilt at the memory as she followed closely behind. ‘I’m still sorry about that.’

‘I told you it’s alright. You didn’t bother me in the slightest.’ Delia turned and raised a stern eyebrow. ‘And what did I tell you about saying sorry?’

‘Alright, alright.’ Patsy smiled shyly, blushing profusely and hoping Delia wouldn’t notice. ‘I’ve brought some snacks if you’re feeling peckish. Know I am.’ 

Patsy was happy for the distraction as they kneeled on the blanket, and she set out the tubs of food she brought. She popped open the lids to reveal the cold fruits and cheeses and bread she’d packed. 

‘I know it’s not as good as that breakfast you whipped up,’ Patsy said bashfully, ‘but I figured it could hold us over until we got back and had a proper lunch.’ 

‘Oh, stop, Pats,’ Delia said, reaching for some bread and cheese, ‘this is perfect.’ 

‘Oh, I wouldn’t say-’

‘No truly. I mean _perfect_ as in everything about this moment is perfect,’ Delia gesticulated with her hands and looked out onto the ocean. ‘I’m sitting amongst this gorgeous scenery about to share a meal with the only person I want to be here with. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world right now.’ 

Patsy smiled but averted her eyes, so overwhelmed with emotion that she was rendered speechless. 

Everything Delia had said, she agreed with. Everything about this moment, about this day thus far, was perfect. Just perfect. 

However, there was that nagging thought in the back of her head, that one of doubt. That this perfect moment was too good to be true. That there had been too much drama and friction between them in the past to ever venture into the kind of relationship that she really wanted. Patsy’s mind was suddenly overwhelmed by all the things about herself and her past that she knew made her anything but perfect, and it squelched any hope she may have had previously that allowed her to think she was any good for Delia. 

Besides. Would Delia even want to be with her through the moments that weren’t perfect? 

Honestly, who would?

‘Patsy, what’s the matter?’

Patsy finally met Delia’s eyes, her worried expression pulling her back into the current moment. The _perfect_ one. She shook her head and forced a smile, figuring it was best to try to keep this moment as pleasant as possible. To avoid conflict. To push down her feelings. 

‘Nothing,’ she replied, plucking a grape from its stem and popping it into her mouth. ‘I’m alright.’ 

Delia didn't seem convinced. 

‘Why would you think something’s wro-’

‘Pats,’ Delia interrupted, sighing with a note of disappointment, ‘I dunno, you just… you get this look about you, like you go off somewhere else. Feels like I’d lose you if I didn’t call you back.’ 

Patsy looked down, feeling guilty. She recalled how she used to be good at hiding her emotions by not expressing any, but it seemed Delia knew her too well now to be fooled by it.

‘Delia, truly,’ she gave her trusty fishhook smirk and found Delia’s eyes, ‘I’m OK. I promise.’ 

There was a long pause where Delia mere looked up at Patsy, concern written all over her features. It was almost enough for Patsy to break her resolve and tell her what was really on her mind. 

‘You’re smiling but you still look so sad,’ Delia finally replied. Her voice was so quiet Patsy almost couldn’t hear her over the sound of the waves rhythmically rolling to the shore. ‘I’d just hate to think of you going through something alone when you needn't.'

Patsy sighed through her nose and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear that was whipping about wildly in the wind. 

'I'm used to it,' she managed, her tone more terse than she intended. 

Delia similarly huffed, and concerned or not, Patsy could tell her patience was growing thin. 'It doesn't make you stronger, you know,’ Delia said hurriedly. ‘Hiding, or keeping it all locked in.' 

Patsy pursed her lips and remained stubbornly silent, knowing Delia was right but didn’t want to admit to it. She took a sip of her water as Delia merely looked at her. Patsy almost broke out in a sweat under her intense gaze. 

‘Does this have anything to do with… yesterday morning?' Delia asked hesitantly. 'When I asked if you were going to tell me everything and you said you couldn’t?’ 

Patsy sighed, thinking. Of all the things Delia had to grasp onto from that conversation, it had to be that. 

‘I still don’t think I can…’ she grumbled. 

‘Whyever not?’ 

Patsy was not at all prepared to have this conversation. She needed time to collect herself. She needed time to think. 

‘I’m just terrified of saying the wrong thing,’ she eventually replied. 

‘You won’t.’

Patsy huffed, finding this conversation all so overwhelming. ‘How do you know that?!’ 

She closed her mouth, closed her eyes, clenched her fists. The very last thing she wanted to do was ruin everything by being so churlish, by losing her temper at someone who didn’t deserve it. She needed to do right by Delia, who had so wonderfully put in the time and effort to get this far with her, who had put in the time to _truly_ get to know her, be a friend to her. She at the very least owed her an explanation. The challenge now was finding the words to do so. 

‘Deels I’m sorry,’ Patsy started, her voice and demeanor much more calm, ‘I don’t mean to be short with you.’ 

‘It’s alright,’ Delia replied sympathetically. 

‘No… no it’s not, and truth be told, I want so badly to tell you… what’s on my mind… how I’m feeling…’ 

‘Why can’t you?’

‘I just… I feel like…’ Patsy closed her eyes and focused on trying to find the words that would best convey how she felt. She always hated this part, but felt resolved to focus on what she truly felt in her heart.

‘Like?’ Delia looked up at her expectantly, hopefully. 

Patsy took a deep breath, finding her words, ‘Like... the foundations of our relationship are so fragile still, I don’t want to say anything to risk-’ 

‘They’re not,’ Delia cut her off, sighing impatiently. She crossed her arms stubbornly and looked away. ‘Pats, they’re not fragile. In fact I think by now they’re pretty solid.’ 

Patsy looked down, her mouth shut tight. She felt bad for hurting Delia’s feelings but the woman was making her feel like that would be the outcome no matter what she said. Patsy’s natural reaction was to remain silent, waiting for the storm to blow over. Though, out here alone with Delia she couldn’t very well remain silent for long. She needed to find it within herself to say what she needed to say. There was no getting around it. The only way out was through. 

Delia rested her hand over Patsy’s, and in turn, Patsy grasped onto Delia’s for dear life. The physical contact brought some comfort, but it was hardly enough to calm her nerves. After a deep breath, Delia went on. ‘I’m sure whatever it is you need to get off your chest, our relationship can withstand it.’

Patsy nodded, but still did not meet her eye. She looked at Delia’s hand in hers and ran her thumb over her knuckles. Delia didn’t flinch, in fact she only squeezed back. It gave Patsy hope that this moment wouldn’t turn out to be a total disaster, but she still felt stuck, the words caught in her throat. 

‘Patsy, I love you.’ 

‘I love you, too,’ Patsy replied automatically, and she shocked herself with how naturally it came out. She finally met Delia’s eyes, and the woman was smiling back at her, her eyes hopeful, calm, patient. 

Patsy felt what Delia said was actually very true. Their relationship wasn’t fragile. No matter the impact of what she was about to say next, they could come back from this. Their relationship could withstand this, couldn’t it?

‘Actually… no,’ Patsy sighed, her heart thumping in her chest like she was about to jump off a cliff. Still, she pressed on. ‘I… I’m _in_ love with you, Delia, and that’s… what’s been so hard to say.’

Patsy chanced a look at Delia, whose expression was blank, stunned. Delia seemed to have been rendered speechless, but her grip on Patsy’s hand remained firm. Patsy looked down and tried not to take her silence as offense, deciding to use the moment to try and explain herself. 

‘I’m sorry about these past few weeks, I just…I pushed you away because I…I needed the space, needed some time to...to get over you.’

The wind picked up and blew Patsy’s hair over her eyes, and she quickly ran her fingers through it to tuck it back. She noted that Delia still held onto her other hand tight, and to fill the silence, Patsy felt the need to blather on. 

‘I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve to be treated the way I treated you, back then and now and… and I’m going to work on being a better friend…’ she paused and looked down at their hands, still holding on tight. ‘...that is, if you still want to be.’ 

‘Don’t.’ 

Patsy blinked, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she looked back up at Delia. She was met with an intense gaze, unwavering and focused. 

Before Patsy could register what was happening, Delia pulled hard on her hand, forcing her to lean forward. She firmly planted her hand down on the blanket beside Delia’s thigh, feeling the smaller woman wrap her arms around her shoulders and pull her even closer, holding her tight. 

‘D-don’t get over me,’ Delia finally stuttered out in her ear. 

Patsy’s heart leapt in her throat, and she found herself much too petrified to speak, lest she made a mistake. She wondered briefly if she’d even heard the woman correctly. 

There was no mistaking the feeling of skin against skin, the soft touch of Delia’s lips gently kissing the shell of Patsy's ear, before she lightly grazed them along her cheek before pulling away slightly. Patsy felt a shiver go down her spine at the sensation, and looked up into those deep blue eyes of Delia’s. 

‘I’m sorry it took me so long to get here,’ she said. 

Patsy could see the tears in Delia’s eyes threatening to spill over. Her hands instinctively found her thighs, her hips, wrapping around her as much as she could to hold her close. 

‘Where’s here?’ she asked. 

‘Here. With you,’ Delia replied, her grasp on Patsy tightening. ‘Just as much in love with you as you are with me.’ 

It took a moment for the words to register. With you. In love with you. Patsy’s heart thumped in her chest, the wind howled in her ears and whipped her and Delia’s hair about. She reached up and tucked a lock of Delia’s long brunette hair behind her ear, and sighed as she felt the smaller woman lean into her touch. 

‘Pats,’ Delia went on, a tear falling from her eye, ‘I love you, I love you…’ she turned her head slightly to kiss the palm of Patsy’s hand, sighing, ‘I’m so in love with you…’ 

Ever since Delia had come back into Patsy’s life, she had felt drawn to her, always wanting to be around her, always wanting to touch, wanting more. Something shifted in Patsy’s brain just then, the rational, unfeeling side of her that usually told her to control herself and hold back was uncharacteristically silent. 

With an intensity that was very much like the crashing of the waves to the shore, Patsy felt herself finally give in to the tether that had pulled her towards Delia all this time. She leaned forward and closed the space between them, pressing her lips to Delia’s. As they kissed, for the first time in a long time, Patsy could feel the anxiety she had always felt around the woman slowly dissipate, she could feel herself calm and relax. Kissing Delia now wasn’t like before, it wasn’t abrupt and out of the blue. There was no awkward lips crashing, teeth bumping moment that she had had with most first, or in this case second, kisses. Kissing Delia now felt like the most natural thing in the world to Patsy. It felt like she had always been made to kiss her. 

It felt like home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The aim for this chapter was to get the readers swooning. Did you swoon? I want to know about it in the comments. 
> 
> As usual, this chapter was meant to be a lot longer, but I've written squat in the last month because of work/wife/baby/life etc so I figure I could give you what I have. I know last chapter I promised smut, and I didn't quite get there with this chap, but I promise, for lack of a better term... it's coming!
> 
> Hey, so if you like pupcake and want to chat with other fans of this awesome community, you can join our discord [here](https://discord.gg/hJeTug2jpk). Don't know what discord is? Check out my post explaining it all [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27273784). It's basically an internet chatroom full of pupcake fans from all over the world talking about not only the show, but the actors, other queer shows we love, other hobbies we have and share. We trade baby _and_ fur baby photos, recipes, fanfiction ideas and fan theories. Do you like making content and want to share to a community that will appreciate it? Post your gifs/fan art/fan fiction/whatever to this discord and get that instant gratification you're looking for. Or just come and have out and chat about whatever's going on in your life. 50 (!) people have already joined the discord and we're definitely happy to have more. Come be part of the conversation! 
> 
> OK, as always, hope you're well, thanks for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta is [Jojo_In_The_Shadows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jojo_In_The_Shadows/pseuds/Jojo_In_The_Shadows). She keeps my Americanisms in check and helps me provide good fanfiction content for this awesome community. Highly encourage you to check out her stuff and leave a comment telling her how wonderful she is :)
> 
> [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/samanthais)


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